


Flight of the Sparrow

by WizardsGirl



Series: Fate's Flock Series [1]
Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: And one character that's not so minor but not a big character, Animal Deaths, Animals fighting (not too graphic as they're cats), Awkward writing style for me, Betrayal, But it's fun!, Cats, Cats have a religion, Cats may seem more humanized than I meant them to be I'm sorry, Death of minor characters, Deaths of small animals, F/M, Frenemies, How do I even tag this???, I actually plotted this whole fic out and its sequels, I feel so proud, I own everything but the Warrior Cat Idea, I'm sorry I'm not sorry at all, Kittens, Loyalty, More infor on the first page, New Adventure, New Cats, New Clan, New Dangers, No explicit cat-on-cat relationships but there will be couples, Prophesy, Q&A accepted, Rivals, Territorial Displays, idk - Freeform, kitties
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-02-11 06:05:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 27,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2056653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WizardsGirl/pseuds/WizardsGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sparrowpaw had always been a bit of a loner, especially after her mother died. But a Warrior life isn’t for the faint of heart, and secrets creep through the tall grasses on silent paws…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Meh, I got bored and decided to write a complete OC Warrior Cats World, because there are hundreds of thousands of stray cats running around, so the Erin Hunter Books literally only covered, what, a handful of miles, if that?  
> So, here’s the first story of my own Warrior books, pretty much.  
> Enjoy!

**INFO!**   
(All this info will only be in the first chapter.)

_**The Clans:** _

**MeadowClan:** A Clan that has control over a large field. Their Territory has a small creek running halfway through their territory, not nearly as big as the many creeks that make up the neighboring Territory that it leads from, of course, but it is a decent water source. A large number of flat rocks in a sandy area takes up a corner of their Territory and their neighbors, called the Snake Pit, for that area is filled with deadly serpents. On the other side of the Territory, there is another Danger Zone, called the Junk Yard, where Twoleg Monsters got to die. The area is filled with dangerous dogs and vicious Rogues, and the occasional Twoleg as well.

**CreekClan:** Named rather aptly for the many creeks that run though it, this Territory has few trees, made mostly of running water, deep ponds, and rocky soil with little plant life besides the occasional thorn bush, ivy plant, or twisted bracken. The Snake Pit is also located in one of its corners, but that is the only danger that these Clan cats face, outside the rainy season. Due to the number of waterways that make up their land, these cats have been forced to make two Home Dens, one in the bend of a smaller stream where fish and other aquatic life is plentiful, and one high up in the rocks for when the water raises too high. In it’s very heart is the dreaded Deep Pool, where many a creature as drowned, and it is a special duty of Clan Warriors to pull they corpses from its grasp, so that their drinking water did not get tainted.

**WoodClan:** This Territory is made up primarily of trees and rocky earth, though a small creek graces it from CreekClan’s border. They don’t have as many dangers as MeadowClan, nor the weather worries of their watery brethren, but they do have to share their territory with a large Twoleg place, and well-trodden dirt paths through their Territory speak of the Twolegs wandering about, promising danger. Of course, some Twolegs bring their dogs, so there is always the threat of loosened leashes letting the mongrels loose as well.

**No-Clan Territory:** This is a large circle of land at the very center of the three Territories where their borders meet at a single point. It takes an even amount of land from the three Clans, and, at it’s very center, are the Fallen Oaks, the place where the Clans meet once every Full Moon, to discuss their Territories under the watchful eyes of StarClan. The Fallen Oaks are just that, two fallen trees that cross over a deep, rocky ravine. This entire Territory is a place where no Rogue is allowed, though Banished Clan Cats may live there temporarily, until another Clan will accept them, or they are run out for good. There is no violence allowed, as this is the second most holy place to the Clan Cats.

**Star Pool:** The revered Star Pool is outside the three Territories, though it’s own No-Clan Territory meets the furthest borders of both WoodClan and MeadowClan, making only CreekClan have to travel the furthest, most dangerous routes. It is a clear, deep spring, the water always still, and so cold no creature can live in it. It is the Clan Cats only way to truly commune with StarClan outside their Medicine cats, and the only place a Leader can receive their nine lives. It is a holy place, and held in the utmost reverence with All the Clans. Twolegs do not tread there, nor Rogues or Strays.

**Attitudes Amongst The Clans:** The three Clans are always bickering and always in a constant state of “Eggshell Walking” with each other. MeadowClan is by far the most amicable, followed slowly by WoodClan, as these two Clans are forced to deal with the threat of Twolegs far more often, and thus have found themselves in the company of many an abandoned Kittypet and wandering Rogue. CreekClan, however, has the harshest of attitudes to trespassers. Their Motto tends to be “Us Against Everyone Else” and they are well known for letting unwary cats drown in the many waterways that cover their land. “If you cannot swim, stay away from the water” is another often heard quote. Because of this attitude, CreekClan often finds itself at odds with the other Clans. MeadowClan and WoodClan also often have disputes over Territory, with WoodClan usually making attempts at gaining more land during the “Twoleg Season”, and MeadowClan often making an attempt near No-Leaf, as that season is harshest on them, with their lack of caves or trees to take shelter in, and severe lack of food.

**The Area:** The territory is a small nature park in a boreal forest. There are dangers far worse than simple ravines and wild dogs here. After all, gray wolves, moose, and bears are some of the few wild animals that make their home in these forests.

_**Summary: ** Sparrowpaw had always been a bit of a loner, especially after her mother died. But a Warrior life isn’t for the faint of heart, and secrets creep through the tall grasses on silent paws…_

Now, onto the Story!

_**Flight of the Sparrow** _   
_Flock of Fate, Book One_

_**Prologue** _

The moon was a silver sliver in the star-drenched sky, lending just enough light to gleam softly upon the tall sweet grass as it rustled gently in the wind. It gently beamed down upon the large meadow, casting shadows over the openings of dens in one particular section at the base of a large trio of tree stumps, the area bare of most of its grass, and what remained was pressed down from many paws treading upon it.

Movement at the base of one of the stumps brings forth a large white cat, his chest marked with a black blaze, and his yellow eyes gleaming brightly in the night. A large scar peeked out from beneath his chin, crossing halfway across his throat before curling abruptly downwards towards his chest. Whiskers quivering, the large, lithe cat slunk through the silent area, moving towards a small boulder at the very edge of the camp, upon which sat a silent black cat, his own chest white and his gold eyes locked on the sky, hackles up and tail fluffed in agitation, but utterly still and silent. Carefully, the white tom leaped up onto the boulder beside him, and sat waiting, wrapping his tail carefully around his paws as he, too, turned his eyes to the sky.

Time passed slowly, acknowledged only by the rustling of the grass and the leaves of the trees that edged the meadow. Finally, the black tom shuddered, gold eyes closing and fur slowly resettling along his thin frame.

“A message from StarClan, Rainstorm?” The white tom asked, words hoarse and ragged, like stones rubbed in sand; the black tom shook himself firmly, and turned to face the other cat, giving him a nod in answer to his question.

“And a cryptic one at that, as most are,” he sighed, lifting his back leg to scratch at his ruff, which no doubt still prickled with sensation of standing fur. “I don’t know what to do with this message, WhisperStar,” he admitted, whiskers flinching slightly as his tail twitched in irritation.

“It has, occasionally, happened, Rainstorm,” the white tom replied with some bemusement, whiskers lifting as the smaller cat huffed sharply. “Is it truly bothering you so, old friend?” Rainstorm hesitated, then let out a low sigh, nodding.

“It is both a warning and a promise, and there is a foreboding, thrilling edge to it, which speaks of both good and bad to come,” the black tom sighed, tail swishing across the stone beneath his paws, adding an ominous hissing sound to the nights song. WhisperStar shot him a worried look, his own tail uncurling to lay next to him, still but with a tenseness that spoke of his nerves. Rainstorm sighed, and turned his gaze once more to the stars above, and when he next spoke, his voice was quiet and subdued.

“ _Three of the Forbidden take flight, a new Clan rises_ ,” he intoned; WhisperStar’s fur rose and an instinctive, high-pitched growl escaped his chest, as the wind blew with new strength, bringing with it a hint of the chill that was still many moons away. The two toms sat in silence as it died down again, until WhisperStar’s fur once more laid flat.

“…Come, my friend,” the white cat finally said, standing and nudging the smaller cat with his head. “We can do nothing at the moment. StarClan’s words will be clear, in time,” he said; Rainstorm huffed, whiskers lifting in amusement, even as he, too, stood on silent paws and turned to follow his friend and Leader from the boulder.

“Aren’t I supposed to be saying things like that?” he teased; WhisperStar gave a hoarse mrt of amusement, glancing over his shoulder with warm yellow eyes.

“Being wise isn’t reserved only for Elders and Medicine cats, you know,” he replied; Rainstorm gave his own amused sound, before the two parted for the night, the Medicine cat slipping beneath the bounder and into his sleeping den, while WhisperStar returned to the trunk he’d originally crept out of, pausing momentarily to look once more at the sky, unease making his tail-tip twitch.

_A new Clan?_ He wondered, before shaking himself and slipping into the depths of his den. The moon was all that remained, gleaming clearly as it watched over the world, patiently waiting for its time to sleep so the sun could rise.

Movement stirs slightly in another den; this one filled with the forms of small kittens and a few cats, no doubt their mothers, curled up in grass nests. At the edge of one of these nests, a brown tabby kitten shifts again, white paws curling into the grass. With a jerk, her head lifts, and sleep-glazed gray eyes blink blurrily around. With a yawn, the kit closes her eyes, and turns her back to the opening of the den, drifting quickly back to sleep, with a soft, high-pitched purr.


	2. Chapter One

_**Chapter One** _

“Sparrowkit,” a voice meowed in her ear, making it twitch as she turned away with a sleepy grumble, covering her nose with a paw. “Come on, Sparrowkit! Wake up!” Paws shoved at her shoulder and, with an irritated hiss, the napping Sparrowkit woke, swatting at the irritating tom that had been trying to get her attention. Gray eyes narrowed and still blurry from sleep, she rolled to her feet, her brown tabby coat blending with the shadows of the Nursery Den. Looking completely unbothered by her ire, her brother lifted his whiskers, blue eyes gleaming with amusement and excitement, the sun from the den opening making his golden coat shine brightly and shadowing his white chest blaze and white front paws.

“Sunkit,” Sparrowkit groused, ears pinning back and to the sides a bit in consternation; the tom only chuckled at his sister’s irritation.

“Come on, lazybones! Today’s the day we become Apprentices!” He exclaimed, tail flicking excitedly as Sparrowkit finally released her ire and huffed in exasperation at her excitable brother, but she couldn’t deny that his happiness was a relief to see. After their mother, Daisyheart, had finally succumbed to the weakness that had plagued her since their birth, Sunkit had been a shadow of himself. Sparrowkit had never been one for playing and running around being excited about nearly everything, but Sunkit had been, and to see him preferring to curl into a ball in their mother’s nest rather than play in the Green-Leaf sunshine had been a grief of its own. Now, though, it was as if he’d never changed and, though her nap had been interrupted, Sparrowkit was glad to see it.

“Yes, mouse-brain,” she sighed, ears straightening slightly as her brother squawked at her teasing. “I know what today is, don’t worry.” Whiskers lifting, she stretched and yawned, claws poking briefly out of her white paws, before she stood straight, tail flicking as she moved past her brother and out of the den, Sunkit quickly following.

Sparrowkit squinted her eyes against the sunlight, glancing up at the mostly-clear sky and seeing that it was almost sun-high, and that she had slept later than she had meant to. Shaking out her fur and stretching again, she yawned, before meandering after Sunkit as the gold-furred tom pranced towards the fresh kill stone, a relatively large, flat stone that rested against one of the three stumps. The small tom eagerly grabbed himself a field mouse and hopped back off the stone, turning and immediately digging into his meal. Sparrowkit huffed in amusement at him, and hopped up onto the stone to pick her own meal from what lay there.

“Finally awake, then, kit?” an amused mew asked; Sparrowkit looked up and found herself meeting the amused gold eyes of a calico queen with an all-black tail.

“Yes, Blacktail,” Sparrowkit replied immediately, sheepishly. “How has your morning been?” she asked the female Warrior, earning a few mrts of amusement.

“Well enough, kit,” Blacktail replied fondly, reaching into the fresh kill and hooking needle-sharp claws into a robin. “There are more Rogues about than usual, however, which is mildly concerning,” the Warrior informed the kit, before glancing toward the Tallstump, where WhisperStar sat to speak with the Clan. “I shall see you and your brother soon, and maybe I’ll be chosen as your mentor, hmm?” She lifted her whiskers and brushed her tail against Sparrowkit’s shoulder affectionately, making the young brown tabby purr in agreement, before the Warrior scooped up her robin and leaped down from the stone, moving towards the Warriors den on the far side of the camp.

“Hurry up, Sparrowkit!” Sunkit mewed impatiently, and the she-cat huffed, glancing over the fresh kill before grabbing herself a small vole and joining her brother on the ground. Settling down next to him, she began to eat, ignoring Sunkit as the tom cleaned first himself, and then started on his sister.

“Hey there, you two!” a bright, happy voice meowed; Sunkit and Sparrowkit looked up at the same time, and purred in greeting to the young she-cat who had spoken, her green eyes bright and her gray coat thick and fluffy.  
  
“Hello, Grasspaw,” they greeted the apprentice warmly. Grasspaw had been helping them out since she become an apprentice one moon before, teaching them a few small tricks she had learned from her mentor, Robinheart, who was a pretty tabby queen with sky-blue eyes. Not major things, like fighting moves or anything of that sort, but things like how to walk on the pads of their paws to be silent, or make themselves small so that they could hide easier from prey and enemies alike. Simple things that kits could learn to better protect themselves on the chance of an attack.

“See you at sun-high!” The gray apprentice mewed, snatching up a thrush to take to the Nursery for either a hungry mother or one of the other, younger kits. Sunkit sighed longingly as she left, watching her go with half-lidded, slightly glazed eyes, making Sparrowkit roll her eyes.

“Come on, mouse-brain,” she ordered, jabbing her brother in the side with a paw as she got to her feet, licking what remained of her meal from her whiskers as she did. “Moon over Grasspaw later. We should head for the Tallstump.” Sunkit complained momentarily, but followed her quickly enough, soon taking the lead with his cheerful prancing while Sparrowkit sauntered behind him with an amused look in her gray eyes.

They made it in front of the Tallstump just in time for WhisperStar to leap up onto it. He gave a loud, croaking yowl, gaining immediate attention for the cats in the camp.  
“Let all those cats old enough to catch their own prey join here beneath the Tallstump for a Clan Meeting,” he declared, voice gravelly and harsh-sounding, breaking in random places. A white queen with red paws and a thick red plume of a tail with a white-tip, leaped up onto the smaller stump beside the Tallstump, her green-gold eyes narrow and sharp as she looked over the crowd of cats.

“Deputy Foxtail looks more irritated than usual,” Sunkit murmured to his sister, and Sparrowkit could only nod.

“Ah, there you two are,” a deep voice meowed behind them; the two kits looked over their shoulders to find a massive tom cat, his dark gray tabby coat tattered from the battle scars that poked through, and his front right fang broken. His yellow eyes where half-lidded, and his ears alert.

“Stonefang,” the kits greeted in unison, bobbing their heads respectfully to the senior Warrior, who lifted his whiskers slightly in faint amusement.

“I had wondered if I would be forced to hunt you down for your own Naming Ceremony,” the large tabby purred, before turning his yellow eyes to the Tallstump. Sparrowkit and Sunkit shared a look, before turning their attention back to their Leader as well. WhisperStar waited for the gathered cats to settle, before he spoke again.

“Today, we will be gaining two new apprentices,” he called out, Foxtail setting her narrowed green-gold eyes on the two kits, her namesake tail flicking in obvious distaste, which Sparrowkit ignored with practiced ease as the Deputy had hated their mother for some reason, and that hatred had been passed on to her and her brother with Daisyheart’s death. “May they grow into strong, brave Warriors, and may their mentors and StarClan guard them and guide their pawsteps.” Caterwauls and yowls of approval rose from the waiting cats, quieting only when WhisperStar flicked his tail forward and down, over the lip of the Tallstump. He waited until they were all silent once more before he spoke again.

“Bring the two kits forward,” he ordered, and Stonefang nudged them, making Sunkit stumble slightly besides Sparrowkit as she led the way through the crowd, leaping onto the shortest of the three stumps, on the opposite side of WhisperStar than Foxtail, Sunkit settling to sit beside her as the two of them looked out on their Clanmates. A shiver of excitement had her ears twitching and her claws digging lightly into the wood beneath her paws, but otherwise she was still.

“These two shall begin on their path to becoming Warriors this day,” WhisperStar called out. “So, with the blessing of StarClan, I name them Sparrowpaw and Sunpaw!” Again, a cacophony of noise rose from the gathered cats, and Sparrowpaw found herself lifting her head in pride, purring as her brother wriggled in his spot. WhisperStar let the Clan cheer for a while, before he called for silence once more with the sharp movement of his tail. As they settled, he lifted his whiskers, gold eyes warm with pride.

“I shall now name their mentors,” he called out, and Sparrowpaw took note of which cats straightened and which shrunk down, hoping she got a mentor who wouldn’t be unhappy with her as an apprentice, or too harsh.

“Stonefang,” he called; ears twitching sharply in surprise, the large gray tabby stepped forward. “You have guided and taught many apprentices, and they have all gone on to be Warriors MeadowClan can be proud of. I know I can trust in you to do so again, with Sunpaw as your apprentice.” The Warrior nodded his head, and turned assessing, half-lidded eyes on the golden tom, who obligingly leaped down to greet his mentor, the two of them touching noses. Once Sunpaw had settled, sitting next to his massive mentor, WhisperStar nodded.

“Palestripe,” he called; a relatively young tom stepped through the crowd, gold eyes bright and chin lifted proudly. His coat was pale yellow, with stripes that were just a hint darker, more orange than yellow, and a white blaze on his forehead. “You have proved yourself a loyal and strong Warrior these past eight moons,” WhisperStar informed the tom seriously. “You have worked hard in everything you do. I trust you shall teach Sparrowpaw such determination and responsibility, as her mentor.” Palestripe nodded his head respectfully.

“It would be my honor, WhisperStar,” he replied, and Sparrowpaw wasted no time in leaping down from her perch, walking forward and touching noses with her mentor, pleased with his welcoming purr. As she took her seat next to him, WhisperStar looked over the gathered cats and nodded with approval.

“May StarClan watch over and guide us,” he said seriously, and dismissed the Clan with a nod. Sparrowpaw immediately looked up at her mentor, ears perked curiously, and he tapped her on the head with his tail, purring.

“Come on, Sparrowpaw,” he said gently. “Lets get you situated in the Apprentice Den, and then we’ll start your training, alright?” Nodding her agreement, Sparrowpaw walked calmly behind Palestripe as he led her to the mentioned den. It had a wider opening than the Nursery, she absently noted as she slipped through, Palestripe waiting outside patiently for her to work out her own nest. Pupils widening in the darkened den, she peered around, taking in the floor, covered in a thin layer of dead grass, and the old and new nests of thicker patches of grass that left the ground around them bare.

With a thoughtful noise, she slipped through the den, nimbly avoiding nests, until she reached the very back, pleased to find it unoccupied. With a purr, she immediately began pushing the grass around her into a decent pile, climbing onto it and rolling in it, not only to mark it with her scent, but to also spread it in a specific way. Once satisfied, she rose, shook her fur out, and made her way quickly back out into the sunshine, ignoring Palestripe’s amused look at her no-doubt dusty and proud appearance. Shaking that dust from her fur once more, she turned her gray eyes up to meet her mentor’s, who purred warmly.

“Come on, Sparrowpaw,” he said, standing and moving towards the tall grass that surrounded the camp. “Let’s get started before it gets too late in the day, shall we?” Eyes lightening in excitement, pupils shrinking slightly, Sparrowpaw leaped after him, and the two slipped easily though the tall grass and moved deeper into the MeadowClan territory.


	3. Chapter Two

#### Chapter Two

 

Sparrowpaw was crouched low in the grass, gray eyes locked on her prey, pupils wide to catch every hint of movement. The muscles in her haunches tensed, and she carefully shifted her weight, tail held still and straight on the ground behind her. She slowly lowered her head, and prepared to pounce-

-Only for her prey to whirl around and lunge at her, making her yowl, startled, and suddenly find herself pinned, belly up, with her mentor’s amused gold eyes staring down at her.

“You’re getting better,” Palestripe informed her easily, lifting off her and letting her up, which she did, ears pinned and head ducked, embarrassed. “But you made three mistakes that would have gotten you killed if I were an enemy. Do you know what those three mistakes are, Sparrowpaw?” The she-cat sat up, and looked around her, eyes narrowing as she examined her surroundings.

“…I was upwind,” she said, reluctantly; Palestripe nodded. “Um… I hesitated too long…” again, he nodded, whiskers lifting, pleased with her understanding thus far. “And… Um…” she couldn’t find her third mistake, and felt her shoulders slump dejectedly. Palestripe nudged her head with his nose, waiting patiently until she looked up. “I don’t know what else,” she told him unhappily, and he nodded with a reassuring purr.

“I would have genuinely surprised if you had figured it out,” he informed her kindly. “You’re a new apprentice, after all, and I didn’t catch it in my own training at first.” He leaned down, so that they were eye to eye, and suddenly, his warm gaze was serious and stern. “When approaching an enemy, you must _always_ check to see if they’re alone.” On cue, a nimble gray Warrior slipped silently through the grass from the side, making Sparrowpaw twitch, gray eyes wide as the older she-cat nodded at her with patient, serious blue eyes.

“You didn’t even notice Rabbitfoot laying in the shade to the left of me,” Palestripe informed the young tabby, who ducked her head, mentally scolding herself for making such a mistake.

“Do you know what you should do, if you ever find an enemy in the territory, Sparrowpaw?” Rabbitfoot asked gently; Sparrowpaw hesitated, peeking up at her mentor and the other Warrior.

“…Get back-up?” she asked meekly; the pleased purrs she got made her lift her head again, though her ears remained pinned slightly in embarrassment of her mistakes.

“Very good, Sparrowpaw,” Palestripe praised, relaxing the young tabby the rest of the way. “You should _never_ go after an enemy alone. Not _only_ could that enemy outmatch you and you won’t know it, but they could have comrades nearby that would come to their aid.” Rabbitfoot nodded seriously.

“It could also be a trap,” she informed the younger queen, who looked up at her, ears perked. “It is a common strategy, which works rather well. A group of enemies will send a single cat ahead, and that cat will not try to hide that they are there. Instead, they will try and gain attention, so that they can turn and run, with their pursuers following right on their tail, and straight into an enemy ambush. Many cats in all three Clans have used it. It is an easy trick, that can, at times, capture even the most senior of Warriors.” Sparrowpaw felt her eyes widen, surprised that such a simple trick worked so well. Palestripe nodded seriously, his long tail curling forward and surrounding his paws neatly as he sat straight and tall, his ears just peeking over the top of the tall grass.

“I’ve seen the trick used many times, especially by CreekClan and the Junkyard Rogues,” he meowed somberly, as Sparrowpaw sat down, her own tail coiling around her white paws. “CreekClan patrols use it to lead enemies into the Deep Pool, or even the more dangerous of their streams. And the Junkyard cats have used it to lure rash Warriors to their dogs, to be torn to pieces. WoodClan uses it as well, though they tend to stay within the traditional ambush, they have been known to lead cats into Twoleg traps.” Rabbitfoot took up the lecture.

“Our own Clan uses it as well, both the traditional and the clever sides,” the gray cat told her. “I once saw a tom lead a group of WoodClan cats right into a ravine. He knew exactly where to jump to get to a sturdy root in the opposite wall, but the WoodClan cats didn’t, and when they leaped after him, or fell when they tried to stop too late, they did not land safely. Some died instantly on the rocks at the bottom, but a few were unlucky enough to just be severely injured. If one of our patrols does not help them, they die of their injury, or infection, or starvation, _none_ of which is a quick nor painless death.” Sparrowpaw shuddered at the idea of being trapped, bloody and broken, at the bottom of one of their ravines, the corpses of friends, comrades, surrounding her, in enemy territory.

Unfortunately, the deep ravines and sink holes that liberally dotted all three Clan territories were a well-known hazard that took many cats lives each season. Add that threat in with the numerous dogs, freezing Leafbare, flooded creeks in Newleaf, as well as the other predators that lived in the territories, and it truly was no wonder that each of the Clans were so small, compared to the far distant Clans on the other side of the great mountains.

“Don’t worry, Sparrowpaw,” Palestripe soothed, mistaking her sudden shiver as fear about the ravines, rather than the realization that death literally sat around every corner for their Clans. “I shall train you and teach you everything I know, and so you will be better prepared in case of an ambush or enemy action, or even an accident, alright?” Sparrowpaw nodded, and the two of them bid Rabbitfoot goodbye, thanking her for her assistance in the training lesson, and her time in the lecture. Palestripe led Sparrowpaw through the tall grass, and far from the camp, aroun old stumps, rocks, and very carefully across a fallen tree bridge over one of those many ravines they’d spoken of before. The entire time, he was teaching her, pointing out different things along the way.

“Don’t get too close to that stump. Do you see the dirt pile against its side? That’s a Fire Ant colony. They are red like holly berries, and will swarm a cat if they’re disturbed. Their bites feel like fire and burn horribly. Later, I’ll catch one for you, and we’ll take you to Rainstorm so he can make sure nothing happens. It is an unpleasant lesson, but getting bit by just one in the presence of a medicine cat is better then stumbling into them and learning the hard way. And yes, you have to get bitten. How else will you know the difference or know why to avoid them? All the apprentices have to go through it at least once.”

“Be careful of these rocks during Greenleaf, Sparrowpaw. They’re not as popular with snakes as the Snake Pit rocks, but there are occasionally snakes here, especially around the edges where they can hide in the shadows.”

“Always walk on the bare patches of the tree bridge, Sparrowpaw. The bark is weak and falls off easily in most places. If you step wrong, and the bark falls, you may just be joining it at the bottom of the ravine.”

On and on the lesson went, until they finally reached the edge of the creek that marked the farthest part of MeadowClan territory, where the smaller, secondary Warrior camp rested, used for patrols to rest after a border dispute, or if a cat got caught to far from the main camp when night fell. There were only three dens here, and each was small enough for two medium-sized Warriors to share, or a single large Warrior. One den was in the grass at the edge of the small rocky beach, an old rabbit den dug larger. Another was on the beach, under a large piece of driftwood. And the third was opposite that one, and was more an indention in the dirt beneath a mostly-buried boulder than a true den. Palestripe glanced at the sky, lifting his whiskers ruefully as he took in the low position of the sun.

“We shall have to stay here tonight,” he admitted, squinting his gold eyes in the sunlight. “If we headed back now, we’d be caught by the dark halfway there, and traveling even in our own territory at night is ill-advised.” A little unnerved at the idea of doing that, Sparrowpaw nodded her head in agreement with the plan, and Palestripe lifted his whiskers, eyes warm and fond. “Come on,” he meowed. “I’ll teach you how to hunt water prey while we still have sunlight.” Sparrowpaw nodded, relieved both at the distraction from her morbid thoughts and at the idea of eating, as she had yet to eat since the vole just before sun-high. Eagerly, she followed her mentor to the water, unnerved by the strange, painful feel of rocks beneath her paws, digging into the still kitten-soft pads, making her wince slightly. Palestripe noticed and gave her a sympathetic look, though he thankfully, for her pride, didn’t mention anything.

“Not many fish swim down this far,” he informed her as they sat at the edge of the water. “Though you can sometimes catch them farther down, closer to the CreekClan boundary, we don’t usually hunt them here, so not many Warriors know how to catch them.” Sparrowpaw nodded, as it made sense. Why learn to hunt a prey you only see once every couple of moons? “Instead, we hunt the animals that come down to the water or live on the edges of it. Frogs, turtles, water snakes, bugs, and birds. You’ll want to watch out for toads, though. They look and smell similar to frogs, and tend to be bigger and slower, but most are poisonous, and you’ll end up dead of ill for days if you’re unlucky enough to eat one.” Sparrowpaw pinned her ears back with a wince. While Rainstorm was a nice enough tom, as a medicine cat, he was nearly as pushy as an over-protective queen with her first litter, and tended to scold a cat fiercely for any injury caused by lack of caution or play. The idea of having to be in his care for days for a simple mistake like eating the wrong prey, well…

It was a strong motivation to _never_ make that mistake.

“Come on,” Palestripe mewed; Sparrowpaw obeyed, absently noting that her mentor often used the same summons for her, or when he wanted her attention. Leading her to the Driftwood Den, the pale yellow tom leaped up onto the wood and turned, sitting neatly and looking down at his apprentice. Sparrowpaw blinked up at him, ears perking.

“We’re going to practice your hunting crouches first,” he told her. “It might come naturally to you, it might not. Some parts of the MeadowClan hunting is more instinctive to some cats,” he meowed easily, before leaping over her and turning to the side. He fell into a crouch, and Sparrowpaw scrambled in the rocks to copy him. Once she was crouched, Palestripe eyed her from the corner of his eye.

“Move your right hindpaw forward a bit,” he ordered, and Sparrowpaw obeyed quickly. Palestripe huffed softly, pleased with her stance, and rose to circle her. Sparrowpaw’s ears perked up and she sent him a quick glance, before quickly settling back down, narrowing her eyes forward in concentration as she held the position. “MeadowClan Warriors hunt with lunges, speed, and stealth,” he informed her, circling her again and absently nudging her right forepaw a little forward, watching her shift her weight immediately. “We are not usually good swimmers, or climbers, or jumpers, but, like most cats, we have the ability. Some are better than others, of course, but that is just natural.” Sparrowpaw nodded slightly, to show she was listening, and Palestripe purred, falling into the same crouch right beside her, dwarfing her still young form. His whiskers lifted in amusement at this, before he ducked his head down closer to her, and began to murmur.

“A MeadowClan Warrior doesn’t make a sound as we creep towards our target.” He began to slowly creep forward, Sparrowpaw quickly following his example, pupils slowly widening as excitement made her slightly-pinned ears twitch. “We keep downwind, so our prey doesn’t catch our scent.” Remembering her earlier lesson, Sparrowpaw glared determinedly ahead of her, where they were moving towards the grass surrounding the small camp. “And, when we’re so close that we can practically _taste_ our prey in out mouth,” Palestripe whispered, stilling, muscles tensing and head lowering, hindpaws shifting onto their toes. Sparrowpaw followed, and suddenly, the world seemed to disappear beyond her invisible prey, body going completely still.

“We _pounce_ ,” her mentor hissed, and lunged forward, into the grass. Immediately, a small flock of birds took to the air, whistling in alarm, and Sparrowpaw’s sharp hunting instincts clicked in reply. The apprentice lunged forward, landing on the small ledge where grass met rocks, and twisted, leaping high and far into the air, much higher than she’d meant to go, but closer to the birds than she’d thought she’d get. Indeed, her leap brought her right to one of the birds, a robin she saw, and she instinctively hooked her sharp claws into the bird, ignoring its shrieks as she pulled it close. For what seemed like ages, they were caught in midair, and Sparrowpaw felt a sort of serenity and peace she hadn’t felt since her early days tucked against her mothers belly. Her whiskers were pinned to her cheeks, he fur ruffling in the wind, the taste of blood in her mouth as her teeth found purchase in the robin’s neck…

Unfortunately, while her impressive jump had caught her fleeing prey, her moment of jubilant serenity was ruined when she landed in the creek.

As the dark, chilled water surrounded her, panic caused her teeth to clamp fiercely onto her catch, while her claws instinctively detached themselves, her paws flailing desperately in the water, trying to force her towards the surface. Just as her head broke out of the water, Palestripe was there beside her, grabbing her scruff firmly and pulling her towards the shore. Sparrowpaw coughed as best as she could without losing her grip on her kill, and was grateful when her paws touched the painful rocks, scrambling to stand and dash out of the water as soon as her mentor released his hold. She dropped her catch as soon as she was about two fox-lengths away from the water, gray eyes wide as she shivered. Palestripe purred his amusement, shaking himself firmly and sending water everywhere as he did so, gold eyes bright and amused.

“While I didn’t expect you to nearly drown yourself,” he purred, “I commend your determination to hold onto your prey!” Sparrowpaw huffed, shivering slightly and trying to ignore the itchy feeling of water droplets sliding down her body, heart still fluttering from the panic her dip in the water had caused. “And what a jump!” The pale yellow tabby tom exclaimed enthusiastically, trotting past her and her robin to another dead bird, his own catch from his original lunge, apparently. “I’ve only seen jumps that high from WoodClan cats! And even then, they’re usually climbing trees to do it!” He looked very pleased with this development, before shaking himself out and lifting his whiskers happily in her direction. “Well, let’s eat, shall we, Sparrowpaw? And then we might as well have a few swimming lessons so that this doesn’t happen again, okay?” Ears pinning back, Sparrowkit nodded sheepishly before eagerly digging into her prey, relishing the warm meat, even if the wet feathers were disgusting as she plucked them from the bird.

“Done?” Palestripe asked, and, when Sparrowpaw nodded, nudged her toward the water. “Come on, then,” he said, and she followed, hesitating at the edge of the creek. Palestripe didn’t, however, and waded into the water until it reached his chest. He turned his blue eyes on her and sat down in the water patiently, whiskers lifted. “We’re going to start small, Sparrowpaw, don’t worry,” he soothed, and the brown tabby reluctantly stepped forward, her white paws immediately being covered by the water. “I want you to only walk into the water until it reaches your neck, alright? This will get you used to the water and walking through it, which is all I want you to do.” Reluctantly, Sparrowpaw obeyed, and soon was walking in the chilly water slowly, walking around in the water while Palestripe watched.

After she was completely comfortable with that, and the water didn’t feel quite so chill, she turned her gray eyes on her mentor, ears arched forward curiously. He took that as the sign to continue and they spent the rest of their clear daylight on the lessons. By the time the sun had mostly disappeared beyond the horizon, Sparrowpaw could awkwardly swim through the shallow water, where her ungraceful bobbing occasionally allowed her to push her paws against the creek bottom.

Night found Sparrowpaw curled in her own nest in the Driftwood Den, Palestripe taking the Old Rabbit Den for himself, the two of them deciding to sleep separately so that their wet fur had a chance to dry. It was unnerving, at first, for Sparrowpaw. She’d spent her whole life thus far sharing a den with other kits, but now here she was, all by herself in a small camp that only smelled of faint traces of her Clanmates. Thankfully, however, the long journey and lessons had taken their toll, and she slipped into an exhausted sleep, wondering what the next day would bring.


	4. Chapter Three

#### Chapter Three

 

Dawn rose and brought with it a Border Patrol to the secondary camp. Sparrowpaw found herself blearily peering up at the amused form of Blacktail when the calico Warrior nudged her awake. Her patrol partners for the morning, Deputy Foxtail and a silver tortoiseshell queen named Blossomheart (who was back on Warrior Duty now that her kits were four moons old) were murmuring quietly with Palestripe.

“Did you enjoy your first day as an apprentice, Sparrowpaw?” The kind calico queen asked; Sparrowpaw yawned and nodded.

“I can swim a little now,” she informed the older she-cat. “And we found out that I can jump very high.” Blacktail purred, whiskers lifting happily, before she leaned forward and licked Sparrowpaw’s forehead affectionately.

“You’ll be a Warrior in no time,” the Warrior assured warmly, before Foxtail yowled, summoning the calico to her side. The three queens flicked their tails in fair well, before disappearing into the grass to continue their patrol.

“Come on, Sparrowpaw,” Palestripe called with a yawn of his own. “We’re going to catch our morning meal, and then go back to your swimming lessons for a little while.” Sparrowpaw nodded and followed her mentor into the grass. Hunting was relatively easy in the mornings and the hottest parts of the day. Prey was slow and sleepy and looking for a resting place or food, which made them distracted. Thanks to this, it wasn’t long before Sparrowpaw was leaping into the air and catching a bird, this time a thrush, while Palestripe chased his own meal a little ways away. Her meal caught, Sparrowpaw carried it quickly back to camp, waiting to see if her mentor had caught his prey, or if they’d be sharing for this morning.

“Nicely done, apprentice,” the tom meowed when he returned, a strange, gray creature caught in his jaws. Sparrowpaw stared at it, ears arching forward in curiosity, and Palestripe dropped it in order to lick his paw for a moment. It was half his size, with large, dirty claws and tiny eyes; the nose pale pink and poking out like a beak from its dark gray form.

“Mole,” Palestripe announced, looking pleased with himself. “The mouse I was hunting slipped away, but I caught the mole before it could dig back into its hole. They hunt bugs and worms, and live under ground,” he informed the young tabby queen, who nodded slowly, before turning to her bird to begin eating. As interesting as the mole was, Sparrowpaw wasn’t keen on eating something she’d never eaten before. She had a nice, plump thrush, so that’s what she would stick with. Besides, the mole looked almost disturbingly like a rat, vole, and rabbit combined, and it was the farthest thing from “appetizing” as she could imagine so early in the morning.

They finished eating, and Sparrowpaw found herself once more ungracefully paddling through the water, sneezing every so often as water got in her nose. This time, Palestripe stayed out of the water, calling encouragements, suggestions, and orders from the bank. He had her swimming until almost sun-high, and, when she climbed onto the rocks to collapse, exhausted, he disappeared to go catch her a small bit of prey so she could eat before the two of them moved on.

A short nap and a mouse between the two of them, and Sparrowpaw found herself once more running along behind her mentor, stopping occasionally to learn about what they were passing.

“Do not, under any circumstances, eat those red berries, apprentice. They are called _Death_ Berries for a reason, and it is an extremely _painful_ reason.”

“This bush is what marks the place where our creek becomes CreekClan’s. If you swim past it, you’re in their territory, and then you are, unfortunately, on your own. _The Clan Comes Before Any One Cat_. The Warrior Code must be followed… Of course, it is often ignored in this sense, especially between friends, kin, and others, but the Leader must _always_ put the Clan first, so remember that before you do anything silly, Sparrowpaw, alright?”

“This side of this ravine is MeadowClan territory. The pool at the bottom, and everything else, is CreekClan. Don’t go near the edge, apprentice. The fall won’t kill you, but that pool is blue because it’s fed from a spring, like the Star Pool. The cold will numb your body, and you’ll drown. Only a CreekClan cat can survive it, and even then, not very often.”

As they traveled along the border where MeadowClan met CreekClan, they passed a CreekClan patrol. The two groups paused and eyed each other from their Clan’s side of small ravine that separated them at this section of the Border. Sparrowpaw watched the two cats warily, recognizing a mentor/apprentice pair. The mentor was a large white tome with orange splotches and red paws, his amber eyes sharp and suspicious as he and Palestripe eyed each other. The apprentice was a gray-and-white tom, and looked a little battered, most probably from battle-practice if his scratches and dusty fur was anything to go by. As she eyed him, his green eyes met hers, and the two looked one another over warily, scruffs rising warily, though they managed not to growl. It wasn’t that Sparrowpaw didn’t like the tom himself, as they had just met after all. No, it was simply the scent of muddy water that coated the young tom made her instinctively wary.

After all, CreekClan and MeadowClan had been enemies since their beginnings.

“…Redclaw,” Palestripe finally mewed coolly, gold eyes hard and claws digging slightly into the ground. The larger, older tom gave a small nod.

“Palestripe,” he responded, voice harsh with the edge of a growl, before he jerked his head towards his apprentice. “Apprentice Heronpaw.” The gray-and-white tom nodded absently, still glaring at Sparrowpaw warily, and she narrowed her eyes as Palestripe brushed her shoulder with his tail.

“Apprentice Sparrowpaw,” he said coldly; the two mentors continued to eye one another and the others apprentice, before they once again nodded to one another, hostility barely restrained, before the two groups parted way. Sparrowpaw found herself looked back, and her gray eyes met the green of the CreekClan apprentice, and the two young cats pinned their ears back at the same time and silently hissed, before turning away and running after their mentors.

“Redclaw is a senior CreekClan Warrior,” Palestripe told the young tabby she-cat stiffly as they continued, leaping over a large rock as they moved along the Border. “While he and I do not have any personal history or grudges, we will never be able to get beyond what you just saw. I am both too young and inexperienced in battle for him to feel any connection, and he is far to cold and harsh for me to _want_ to go beyond our… Situation.” Sparrowpaw nodded silently in understanding, and the Warrior shook his own head, and tapped her shoulder with his tail affectionately. “Seeing the two of them, however, has reminded me that I need to start your battle training. So, tomorrow we’ll start that, alright? Today is just learning the territory and dangers, alright?”

“Yes, Palestripe,” the young tabby she-cat replied, and they continued onward.

They went to the edge of the Snake Pit, Palestripe making sure Sparrowpaw knew that she was _not_ to go in there without at least two senior Warriors because of the dangers. They walked the Border between MeadowClan and the No-Clan territory on the edge, which led to Twoleg territory. They made a brief pass by the Junkyard Border, the barking and snarling of dogs making Sparrowpaw’s fur stand on end and her back instinctively arch, before Palestripe led her safely away and towards the Main Camp. They made sure to catch a few birds and a plump mouse before they got back.

“Ah, they’ve returned!” an Elder exclaimed playfully, his orange-and-white fur tattered and thin in spots, gold eyes warm as he paused in licking the stump where his right hindpaw had been, before a badger had taken it while tom had been protecting his apprentice. Sparrowpaw’s ears flicked up, whiskers lifting happily at the friendly, affectionate Elder.

“Hello, Lostfoot!” she purred, carrying the blackbird she’d caught over to the Elder. The other two Elders (a blind, all-brown queen with an age-grayed muzzle named Brownfur, and a deaf tabby tom with pale brown fur and abnormally large claws named Thornclaw) were both napping in the late afternoon sunlight. The orange-and-white Elder purred and coaxed her into laying with him, purring as he nibbled on her prey while she licked his tattered fur affectionately. The scent of the meal woke Brownfur, who crawled over shakily, limbs trembling weakly and a wheezing edge to her breathing. She was the oldest cat in the Clan, and would probably die this Leafbare, Sparrowpaw knew. Lostfoot didn’t hesitate in sharing his meal with the old she-cat, and instead turned his head to start licking at Sparrowpaw’s fur as the two of them cuddled affectionately.

“How are you enjoying the beginning of your apprentice training, Sparrowpaw?” Lostfoot meowed; Sparrowpaw purred, using her teeth and claws to carefully remove a twig that had tangled in the Elder’s belly fur.

“Palestripe is an excellent mentor,” she informed him honestly. “And I now know how to swim. Water is very unpleasant,” she huffed, and Lostfoot gave several _mrt_ sounds in amusement.

“That it is, kit,” he purred, licking her cheek before rubbing the top of his head against hers warmly. “I am glad you are enjoying your training, though.” Sparrowpaw bobbed her head, and got up to leave.

“Sparrowpaw,” Brownfur croaked softly, and the young tabby mewed to show she was listening. “Would you be a dear and ask young Rainstorm for some poppy seeds for me? These old bones are aching terribly today,” she sighed, and Sparrowpaw agreed, leaning forward and tenderly licking the Elder between her ears, before trotting off towards the medicine cat’s working den, a large hole hidden by long tufts of bent grass.

“Rainstorm?” She mewed at the doorway, knowing better than to just push the curtain of grass aside and go in. A mew answered her, and the apprentice poked her head through, lifting her whiskers in happy greeting of the black tom. “Brownfur asked for some poppy seeds. She says her body in very pained today.” The black medicine cat sighed and bobbed his head, gathering a few of the requested seeds into a leaf and setting it in front of Sparrowpaw, who purred her thanks and carried the leaf back to the Elders, staying and helping Brownfur eat them, before mewing her farewells and trotting off to find her brother.

“Sunpaw?” She meowed softly into the apprentice den, poking her head through the entrance. There was a black tom fast asleep near the middle of the den, who she recognized a Nightpaw, the oldest apprentice who would no doubt become a Warrior within the next moon or so. He wasn’t one to play with kits, however, so she’d only met him a few times, enough to know he was a bit of a bully and pretty competitive. Seeing that, besides the tom, the den was empty, Sparrowpaw slipped away, wandering around the camp.

“Looking for your brother?” Stonefang meowed from behind her suddenly; Sparrowpaw turned quickly, startled, but then nodded to the senior Warrior. The massive gray tom lifted his whiskers in amusement, before flicking his tail at her in a “follow me” gesture, which Sparrowpaw obeyed. The large tom led her out of the camp and into a small clearing a little ways away, where th sound of tussling cats could be heard.

“Battle training,” Stonefang rumbled as Sparrowpaw peered through the grass, watching as her brother’s small yellow form was being easily tossed around by Rabbitfoot, and Grasspaw was struggling with the larger form of Deputy Foxtail, who was relentless in her attacks.

“Why aren’t they fighting their own mentors?” Sparrowpaw asked curiously; Stonefang purred, his tail curling over to brush the young tabby’s side in approval of the question.

“For several reasons,” he rumbled calmly as Sunpaw was sent rolling through the grass, hopping up and lunging forward again. “For one, I am far to large for Sunpaw to even have a semblance of a chance, and, at this stage in his training, he needs to build confidence, so fighting an opponent closer to his size is best.” Sparrowpaw nodded thoughtfully. “Foxtail always has a paw in assisting with Battle Training, so she is almost always involved. And Grasspaw’s mentor Robinheart injured her paw while hunting today, stepping on a thorn, so she is unable to assist.” Sparrowpaw nodded again, and blinked when Stonefang gave her an assessing look.

“Join the fight,” he ordered; she blinked, startled. “Your comrades are being attacked by enemy cats. Assist them.” Sparrowpaw hesitated briefly, before nodding. She turned assessing eyes on the “battle” in front of her, and decided assisting Grasspaw would be best. After all, Rabbitfoot was just tossing Sunpaw around. Foxtail was seriously and repeatedly pinning the gray apprentice to the ground, and leaving wounds, as small as they were. Slipping through the grass silently, ignoring Stonefang’s eyes on her, following her progress though he didn’t move. Once Sparrowpaw was in position, she crouched, remembering Palestripe’s lessons on hunting and stalking an enemy. Shifting her weight, she silently focused on how high and far she’d have to jump, before her muscles tensed.

Like a spring-loaded weapon, she was suddenly airborne, lunging though the empty space and falling towards the Deputy. Foxtail noticed just in time, twisting her body and lunging away, making Sparrowpaw miss her target, but the tabby was already moving, lunging after the retreating Warrior, whose green-gold eyes narrowed. Again, Sparrowpaw missed as the Deputy dodged, only to get struck from the side by the older she-cat, hissing as she was sent rolling, managing to get her paws under her and jumping straight upwards in time to dodge another attack, using her tail to turn in mid-air so she was facing the older queen. So, she was taken by surprise when Rabbitfoot slammed into her, yowling as teeth dug into the fur over her shoulder, twisting against the grip to scratch at the Warriors side. Sunpaw appeared, moving to assist her, but Foxtail swatted him away before Grasspaw landed on her back.

Sparrowpaw managed to twist so that she was mostly facing Rabbitfoot, and the two of them started rolling around, hissing and spitting and yowling as clumps of fur flew and claws cut flesh, teeth taking hold and eyes narrowed in battle.

Before it could go from battle training into an actual fight, however, Stonefang caterwauled, loud and sharp, and the fighting cats quickly disengaged. Sparrowpaw was panting, pupils pinpricks and blood slowly dripping from multiple scratches. Grasspaw and Sunpaw didn’t look much better, though the older apprentice had a nasty-looking scratch between her eyes that stopped at the tip of her nose. Rabbitfoot had a few bleeding scratches on her chest and shoulders from where Sparrowpaw had twisted in her teeth, but Foxtail looked almost completely wound free, with only a couple of thin, barely blood cuts on her right hip.

“Well-done, you three,” Stonefang announced, nodding at the panting apprentices. “You all need improvement, some more than others, but that will be left up to your mentors, who will be given a report on your actions here.” He turned his eyes on the two Warriors, and bowed his head respectively. “Thank you for the assistance in their training, Foxtail, Rabbitfoot.”

“It was a pleasure, Stonefang,” Rabbitfoot purred, licking at her chest absently; Foxtail sniffed, her namesake tail swishing in irritation, but nodded her head in acknowledgement. With that, she disappeared back towards camp, and Stonefang herded the apprentices and Rabbitfoot to the medicine den.

“Rainstorm,” the massive Warrior meowed clearly, poking his head through the curtains without waiting for any acknowledgement. “Battle training patients,” he said into the den, and an aggravated hiss sounded from within as Stonefang pulled back, the black medicine cat stepping out with narrowed gold eyes and dust darkening his white chest. He gave the three apprentices and injured Warrior a once over, and hissed again, irritated.

“You three, in the den,” he ordered, his tail lashing into the direction of the den. The three obeyed without hesitation, knowing better than to question the moody cat’s orders. The only cats in MeadowClan who could get Rainstorm to back down or at least be pleasant, were WhisperStar (who had grown up with the cat), Stonefang (who was his most frequent patient), and Softtail (A black-and-white queen with a long, fluffy tail and gold eyes, because she was his sister). As they settled in the soft nest inside the den, and began to lick their own and each other’s wounds, Sparrowpaw absently kept an ear turned towards the opening, listening to the cats outside.

“It’s been a while since _you_ were in my care, Rabbitfoot,” Rainstorm meowed thoughtfully, no doubt examining the she-cat’s wounds. “I wouldn’t think it was because an apprentice, especially one of ours!”

“We’ve a strong litter this moon,” the Warrior mewed in response, hissing in pain as Rainstorm did something. “The little tabby did this. She’s a wily one,” the queen meowed, sounding completely approving. “Had my teeth in her scruff and she just twisted like a fish and nearly pinned me. A little more training for her, and she’ll be ready for proper patrols.” Sparrowpaw felt her fur puff up proudly, and purred as she went back to cleaning her wounds.

“Well, either way,” Rainstorm continued, mews muffled as Rabbitfoot hissed again. “There. You’re good to go, though you need to be resting until the bleeding stops naturally. Stonefang, escort her to her den, please?”

“Of course,” the massive cat rumbled, and, moments later, Rainstorm was slinking through the curtain and beginning to patch the three apprentices up, cobwebs being placed on wounds and dabbed at lightly to stop the bleeding.

“No brawling with the Warriors for at least a week, you three,” he ordered once he was finished. “Training and hunting is fine, but I don’t want you to tussle with any of our cats, alright?”

“Yes, Rainstorm,” the three of them mewed together meekly, making the black tom huff and chase them out with a few well-placed swats, muttering about kits.

“You heard the tom,” Sunpaw announced, stretching carefully with a yawn. “I saw we go to bed.” Sparrowpaw agreed, but Grasspaw decided to go and check on the Nursery and see if they needed anything. The siblings bid their friend farewell, and entered the apprentice den, Sunpaw crawling into his nest near the front, while Sparrowpaw quickly slipped through to the very back, where it was coolest. Crawling into her nest, she sighed happily, yawning as she curled there, her tail lying over her nose as she slowly closed her eyes, hoping that the rest of her apprenticeship continued to be as satisfying, before drifting off to sleep with a slow, soft purr.


	5. Chapter Four

#### Chapter Four

 

The grouse was pecking at seeds on the ground at the base of one of the few trees in the meadow, its black-striped tail feathers flicking in the cool wind. It’s beady eyes flicked around it as it watched for any threats. There was a soft rustle and it froze, head cocked, soft clucking noises escaping its throat. There was a sudden movement above it, and the grouse barely had time to shriek before the young brown tabby landed on it, teeth sinking into the back of its neck as it thrashed, claws digging deep into the plump sides, sending feathers into the air.

Sparrowpaw purred as her prey finally succumbed, yanking her head just to make sure it was dead. She’d been hunting solo for a week now, as all able hunters were bringing in as much food as they could to build up their bodies for the upcoming winter in several moons. She’d been rather successful thus far, to the point where Palestripe no longer felt the need to follow her and check up on her. Of course, with Leaffall bringing the harsh chill down from the far away mountains, the Clan needed all its able hunters working, rather than watching their apprentices. And, with another batch of kits nearing their sixth moons, the Warriors were going to be spread even thinner, something the Clan couldn’t afford.

When Leafbare came, so would the larger predators, and their Clan would need as many fighters as they could.

Carrying her grouse straight into the camp, she dropped it off at the Fresh Kill Stone and then disappeared again into the grass, determined to catch some more prey before she would be forced to return to the apprentice den and rest. She didn’t like it much, but she understood better than to try and push herself at a time like this. _Tired Warriors Make Deadly Mistakes_. It was something Palestripe had told her on more than one occasion during the past two moons, and something she knew she would follow.

It was a little while past sun-high, now, however, and that left her plenty of time to hunt.

She crept through the grass, ears swiveling, mouth open so she could taste the scents around her better, focusing on ever little sound and rustle as she moved. Technically, with the catch of the grouse, she wasn’t required to hunt for the rest of the day, such a large meal being worth the reward. But, if she was honest with herself, Sparrowpaw knew she loved to hunt. She loved the thrill of leaping on unsuspecting prey, the taste of blood on her teeth, the excitement when larger prey fought back. It was exhilarating, like that first robin at the secondary camp before she landed in the creek. She hungered for it, that rush of excitement, and so she would continue to hunt. It helped that the added foods made her Clanmates strong, of course.

The sun slowly moved across the sky, and Sparrowpaw caught two ravens, a gray jay, and a chipmunk. Carrying the prey to camp carefully, having buried it temporarily so she could catch more, Sparrowpaw finally decided that she had caught enough, settling down to eat her chipmunk.

“So, you caught a grouse, huh?” An irritated mew asked behind her; Sparrowpaw flicked her ear back but continued eating.

“Mm,” she managed affirmatively, cracking her meal’s bones between her teeth.

“I bet I could catch bigger prey than that,” the intruder boasted; Sparrowpaw absently flicked her tail towards him.

“If you say so,” she mumbled around the last bite of chipmunk. Te cat behind her hissed and swatted her on the head, which had Sparrowpaw finally turning to look at him, hissing back, ears pinned irritably. “Will you just go _away_ , Nightpaw?” she yowled, getting up, her tail lashing in agitation. The all black tom, now ten moons old, hissed again, green eyes narrowed.

“Not until you accept my challenge,” he growled; Sparrowpaw hissed again.

“Why would I accept your stupid challenge, when I’ve already proved myself to the _Clan_ , which means more to me than _your_ opinion?” She growled; Nightpaw’s tail lashed.

“Fine then, mouse-brain!” he hissed, turning, nose in the air. “I’ll just go and challenge your brother. At least _he_ will accept, like a _real_ Warrior!” As he walked away, Sparrowpaw growled lowly, rising to her paws and stalking after the tom, tail lashing. Nightpaw paused and sent her a narrow-eyed look, whiskers twitching up smugly.

“What’s your challenge?” she hissed harshly; he huffed and sat primly, licking his paw smugly as he did so.

“There’s a bushy area on the edge of WoodClan that’s filled with all sorts of larger prey at this time,” the older apprentice told her arrogantly. “I say we go hunting there, and, whoever catches the most prey wins.”

“Wins _what_?” Sparrowpaw demanded; Nightpaw paused a moment, looking thoughtful, before his ears perked up and he turned to look at the female apprentice with a smirk.

“Winner gets to pick one duty for the loser to do, for a whole week.” Sparrowpaw stilled, ears flicking with sudden interest as she, took sat up.

“…Can the one duty change every day?” she asked after a moment of consideration; Nightpaw blinked, and then nodded thoughtfully.

“And the only way for the loser to get out of it is if their mentor or one of the senior Warriors gives hem another duty,” he said firmly; Sparrowpaw nodded in agreement.

“Lead the way, then,” she mewed; tail high, Nightpaw did just that, leaping through the tall grass silently, with Sparrowpaw just behind him. Birds were startled as the two young cats ran, flying into the air with startled cries, and Sparrowpaw felt her ears pin back in irritation for the carelessness of the tom in front of her. He was so focused on the challenge he’d given her, he’d forgotten that the two of them were going near enemy territory, and that alerting a WoodClan patrol would be foolish. They were two unblooded apprentices, after all, and their first fight shouldn’t be so isolated from backup…

They finally came to a large, dense bunch of bushes, barely staying on the MeadowClan side of the Border. The bushes were large and thick, perfect hiding places for nesting birds and smaller creatures. The two of them paused, mouths open and carefully scenting the air. The thick scent of a recent WoodClan patrol filled their senses with the smell of pine trees and upturned earth, making it hard to smell anything else, which made Sparrowpaw uneasy but also a little pleased. After all, the challenge had just gotten harder.

“Shall we start?” Nightpaw mewed; Sparrowpaw shook herself and licked her chest fur thoughtfully, glancing at the sun.

“We can’t be here too long,” she warned, eying the sky. “And no leaving the bushes,” she added with a sharp look at the older apprentice, who growled at the insinuation.

“Let’s start, then,” he hissed; she growled back, and the two of them slunk into the bushes.

Right away, Sparrowpaw found herself struggling. The strong scent of WoodClan covered the softer smells of prey, and scared the smaller ones off. She managed to catch a vole and a small sparrow, but more prey was scarce. Slinking around the bushes, she ignored the glimpse she got of black fur on the other side and slipped underneath a bush to crawl towards an unsuspecting mouse.

She was close, almost upon it, ready to pounce, when Nightpaw let out a startled, pained screech and scared off everything within the bushes. Sparrowpaw lunged out of the bush, startled by the hurt, scared sound from her sometimes-rival, and leaped nimbly over the bush between her and the sound, landing in an empty space just in time to see the older apprentice being mauled by a larger black tom with a tattered ear. Yowling, she lunged for him, and managed to knock him away from the badly bleeding cat, taking him into a rolling, screaming tussle, ignoring the pain that shot through her shoulder as he snarled, and twisted. Fur flew off as fangs and claws sank into flesh as they fought.

Abruptly, the two broke apart, and Sparrowpaw snarled, quickly backing away until she was standing beside and slightly over the mewling form of her Clanmate, barely glancing at him to see that his shoulder, chest, and head were gushing blood from deep wounds. She focused her gray eyes on the intruder, silently cursing the WoodClan patrol that had so thoroughly scented this particular area, because she could only smell their scent and the fresh blood, though she’d noted the scent of dog faint in the toms fur as they fought.

“You’re trespassing in MeadowClan territory,” she snarled at him, fur puffed, ears flat and fangs bared. “Leave, before our Clanmates tear your mangy hide to shreds!” The tom hissed at her, and, for the first time, Sparrowpaw noted that he was nearly as large as WhisperStar, and she unconsciously stepped over Nightpaw to cover his injured form more.

“I don’t think so, little queen,” the tom growled lowly, and the bushes on either side of her rustled, before two more toms joined them. One was small but lean, with heavy scars breaking up his dirty white fur and a single, glaring blue eye. The other was nearly the size of Stonefang, with thick orange fur and pale brown tabby stripes, gold eyes narrowed.

Sparrowpaw felt dread curl in her stomach as she curled protectively over Nightpaw, her next hiss more fearful than angry, as she took in the larger forms of these enemy cats. In her haste to defend her Clanmate, she’d forgotten Palestripe’s warnings from her first day as an apprentice.

 _Always check for more enemies before you attack_.

****


	6. Chapter Five

**_Chapter Five_ **

 

The large orange tom seemed to find Sparrowpaw’s situation highly amusing.

“Well, Shadow,” he purred, baring his fangs slightly at the large black tom, “if such a small tabby queen can give you trouble, maybe you should head back to the ‘yard,” he mocked; the black tom, Shadow, snarled at him.

“Shut up, Maximus,” he hissed; the white tom snarled at them both, never letting his eye leave Sparrowpaw. “And you too, Winter!” The white tom ignored him, though, and Maximus turned his gold eyes back to Sparrowpaw as well, taking a step towards her and earning a snarl, her back instinctively arching as she spat at him warningly, earning an amused look from the massive cat as the three Rogues (no doubt from their strange names) watched her.

“Come now, little queen,” he purred, leaning in closer, but staying just far enough away that she couldn’t hit him with her claws unless she stopped protecting Nightpaw. “We’ve no quarrel with such a pretty young cat.” His gold eyes narrowed faintly, and he bared his fangs at her; Sparrowpaw shrank back from him a bit, laying down closer to Nightpaw, who was softly mewling in fear and pain beneath her. “Of course,” Maximus continued, dropping his eyes down to the cowering Nightpaw, “if you’ve already mated with that poor excuse of a tom, well, we might take exception.” Sparrowpaw recoiled at both the accusation as well as the insinuation that _he_ would be a better mate for her, and swatted at him instinctively when she realized he’d slid forward a little bit.

“Come now, little queen,” Shadow spoke up as Maximus obligingly stepped back a bit, and Sparrowpaw was desperately trying to keep her attention on all three of the males, snarling at the white cat, Winter, when she noticed he had used her distraction with Maximus to sneak forward. “We don’t want to have to hurt you. You’re rather valuable to us, after all,” Shadow purred; Sparrowpaw hissed at him too, fur slicking down with fear as all three males slunk closer.

“Go,” Nightpaw hissed under her, voice tight with pain; Sparrowpaw growled.

“No,” she growled back, flinching instinctively when Winter swatted at her back hip, yowling at him in an almost immediate, maternal action, as if she was a fully grown queen protecting her kits.

“The Clan comes before any one cat, you mouse-brained fool!” Nightpaw managed; Sparrowpaw shook her head, and jerked around when Shadow lightly racked his claws against her side, only to yowl when Maximus did the same from her other side.

“Shut _up_ , you stupid, pellet-eating kit of a-!” she didn’t get to finish, because Winter had lunged, slamming her off of Nightpaw and to the side. Sparrowpaw _screamed,_ enraged and terrified as she saw Shadow leap for Nightpaw, struggling desperately to get away, to help her Clanmate. As Nightpaw tried to fight back, and Maximus started to pad over to where she was thrashing in Winter’s grip, a sound echoed from the bushes, and the familiar forms of Stonefang, Rabbitfoot, and Deputy Foxtail leaped at the interlopers, yowling their battle cries as they were followed by Sunpaw and Grasspaw.

Winter was ripped away from her by Foxtail’s lung, the two cats snarling and hissing furiously as they rolled. Stonefang had taken Shadow down, before being jumped by Maximus, leaving Rabbitfoot to attack the stunned black tom. Sunpaw and Grasspaw sped forward, and Sparrowpaw managed to meet them at Nightpaw’s side, the black tom gasping for breath and covered in blood.

Rabbitfoot yowled and Sunpaw didn’t hesitate to launch himself onto Shadow’s back, while Grasspaw darted in and out of the fight, helping where she could while staying close to the injured. Sparrowpaw once more took her place standing protectively over Nightpaw, occasionally leaning down and licking at one of his wounds, trying to both stop the bleeding and comfort him.

Several minutes pass, and warning yowls nearby alert Sparrowpaw and her Clanmates of a WoodClan patrol coming to investigate. All the Rogues hear is reinforcements. With a loud caterwaul, they disconnected from their individual fights, Winter and Maximus coming out of theirs with nasty wounds but otherwise whole, while Shadow left with a crippled leg and both his ears ripped almost clear of his head. Unheeding the scent line, the three badly injured Rogues lunged over the Border and disappeared amongst the pines and aspen trees.

Moments later, six WoodClan cats appeared, the average for a response to a disturbance. Four took off after the Rogues immediately, while the remaining two, a large queen and an apprentice tom, stayed behind. Sparrowpaw didn’t move from standing over Nightpaw, instead shifting her weight and attention to the two WoodClan cats, not snarling at them, but continuing to growl and protect her injured Clanmate. The queen was all gray, with a splash of white speckles along her plume of a tail and chest, her gold-green eyes bright, pupils wide. The apprentice (hers?) was a dark gray tabby with thick black stripes, blue eyes wide and pupils small, mouth open to scent everything around him better.

“Deputy Foxtail,” the queen meowed cautiously, tail twitching anxiously as the apprentice shifted on his paws, staring, wide-eyed, from Sparrowpaw and Nightpaw, to the bloodied Warriors. The MeadowClan Deputy nodded her head sharply to the queen, licking blood from her muzzle.

“Ashtail,” the Deputy greeted cordially, glancing at the apprentice silently; Ashtail nodded faintly.

“My Clanmate’s apprentice, Rockpaw,” she mewed; Foxtail gave him a stiff nod, and he ducked down a bit, nervous as he nodded back respectfully. “Can you tell us what happened?” Foxtail turned a sharp look on Sparrowpaw, who understood the unspoken order and carefully moved from over Nightpaw, who was immediately scooped up by Stonefang who took off running, Grasspaw on his tail.

“Nightpaw and I were hunting here,” the young brown tabby explained. “We were trying to see who could catch the most prey before we would head back. Nightpaw said that this was where a lot of the bigger prey hid, but, if they had, they were chased off by the scent of a recent WoodClan patrol,” she gave a small nod to the Warrior Queen so she would know that Sparrowpaw wasn’t slighting her Clan, and Ashtail nodded back in acknowledgement. After all, it happened often enough, there was no point in trying to start a fight over it.

“I could barely even smell _myself_ ,” Sparrowpaw admitted, and pinned her ears back, ashamed, now. “We decided to continue anyway, because it made the challenge more difficult.” The harsh hiss this earned her from the Deputy made her flinch and crouch a bit, wincing as her shoulder wound ached fiercely. Sunpaw slid up on her other side and licked at her head comfortingly, and Sparrowpaw continued softly. “I-I saw black fur from the other side of the bush I was hunting under, but I just thought it was Nightpaw, because that’s where he’d gone. It wasn’t until he yowled that I realized something was wrong, but I still couldn’t smell _anything_ besides the marking scent!” She shook her head, pinning her ears back tighter against her head and shivering faintly.

“I couldn’t get around the bush fast enough, so I jumped over it,” she meowed. “I landed over were Rabbitfoot is right now,” she nodded at the gray queen, who was busy licking her wounds. “There was a big black tom on Nightpaw, a stranger, and I didn’t think, I just reacted, because he was tearing into Nightpaw, aiming to kill him.” Her tail lashed as she growled faintly at the memory. “I surprised him, got him away from Nightpaw, but Nightpaw was too injured already, he couldn’t even stand.” She shook herself once, sharply. “I stood beside him, at first, between him and the stranger, because I couldn’t tell if he was from a Clan or a Rogue or anything, the scent was too well-hidden. I warned the tom he was trespassing, and told him to leave before a response patrol came for him. He refused, and the other toms came through.” She shuddered and crouched a bit, eyes wide. “I couldn’t smell them, or hear them, they were moving like Clan cats and I couldn’t tell.” She shook her head, and, this time, Foxtail’s eyes narrowed for a completely different reason.

“I only found out they were Rogues when they called each other by name,” the young tabby queen meowed. “The black tom was Shadow, the orange Maximus, and the white Winter. They were a group, and knew each other well. Maximus kept trying to get me to move away from Nightpaw, kept saying they had no problem with me, that I was _valuable_ to them because I was a queen.” She shivered, and, this time, Sunpaw snarled, and rubbed himself against his sister protectively while the other cats growled. “He got very threatening and wanted to know if I’d mated with Nightpaw.” She snorted, and Sunpaw licked her head. “The three of them kept moving closer, and it was very hard to keep an eye on them all. Finally, Maximus distracted me and Winter tackled me. They were going to kill Nightpaw when you all got here,” she whispered, and slumped down to lay on the ground momentarily. Movement in the grass warned them as WhisperStar and a tall, thin gray tom with one blue eye and one green (Windclaw, Sparrowpaw recognized. Nightpaw’s mentor) slid out of the grass.

“Windclaw, take Sparrowpaw back to camp,” WhisperStar ordered; the tall tom nodded seriously, and grabbed onto the exhausted apprentice’s scruff, lifting her into the air, making her feel tiny as she was pulled straight off the ground. Instead of complaining like she would have if she’d been uninjured, she curled her body up tightly, just like when she was a tiny kit and her mother would move her to a different part of the nest. Windclaw turned away from the group, and dove through the grass with an enviable speed. They arrived at the camp, and Sparrowpaw noted absently that all the queens with kits were in the Nursery Den, while the Elders were lying in front of it, eyes wide, ears twitching, and mouths open, ready to protect the kits in case of an attack.

A clear yowl cut through the air from behind them, and Sparrowpaw realized that her brother and Grasspaw had followed them. The cry warned Rainstorm that an injured cat was being carried in, and Sparrowpaw found herself carried into the Medicine Den and set carefully on a nest. Rainstorm barely paused long enough to make sure she wasn’t going to die right away, before turning back to the unconscious form of Nightpaw, swiftly placing dozens of wads of cobwebs to stop the bleeding. Sparrowpaw was exhausted, but she forced herself up, carefully grabbing some cobweb and starting carefully press them into her Clanmate’s wounds, earning an approving nod from Rainstorm as the black tom continued to do the same.

By the time they’d finished with Nightpaw’s wounds, Sparrowpaw was ready to curl up and go straight to sleep. Instead, she stayed awake long enough to thank Rainstorm when he’d finished covering her wounds, and in time to see that the rest of her Clanmates from the response patrol had returned safely. Then, and only then, did she let herself curl up and fall into a deep sleep.


	7. Chapter Six

**_Chapter Six_ **

****

“You were both _extremely_ lucky,” WhisperStar informed Sparrowpaw and Nightpaw solemnly. “Your wounds will heal, and scar, but you will not be crippled.” Sparrowpaw and Nightpaw bowed their heads silently, lying in their designated nests in the Medicine Den. “You will not be hunting, patrolling, or training for a the next several sunrises, but you will return to your duties soon enough.” They nodded silently; WhisperStar’s yellow eyes narrowed with stern disapproval. “However, your actions have consequences.” The two apprentices winced and nodded miserably; Foxtail stepped forward, nose up as she glared coldly down at the two young cats.

“Not only did you decide to _play_ while hunting so near a border,” she said grimly, making the two cats shrink down further, “but you proceeded into a dangerous situation, where you could not scent anything except the border scent, and decided to _continue_ , _by your selves,_ into said situation! Had Sparrowpaw’s brother not noticed she had left with you, Nightpaw, _you_ would have died and, from what we’ve been able to find, Sparrowpaw, _you_ would have been taken into the Junkyard, or wherever those Rogues had set up their base in No-Clan Territory, and kept as a kit-bearer, to build their numbers.” Sparrowpaw cringed instinctively with a shudder, and Nightpaw shifted to uncertainly nudged his shoulder gently against hers, shuddering as well.

“And, to make things worse,” Palestripe meowed gravely from his place next to Windclaw at the entrance of the den (Rainstorm was only allowing so many cats into his workplace because he was helping Softtail kit her late litter. It was unlikely that they would survive the winter, but more kits were always something to celebrate), “We’ve discovered that there is a traitor in one of the Clans, teaching Rogues Clan techniques.” Sparrowpaw and Nightpaw stilled, ears perking forward in shock, eyes wide. Windclaw nodded seriously and continued the explanation, his deep meows echoing faintly in the large den.

“The reason neither of you heard these Rogues approach, despite the fact that most Rogues have proven themselves as stealthy as a moose, is because this Traitor has taught them MeadowClan stealth techniques,” he informed them. “Once in WoodClan Territory, their response patrol informed us that the Rogues switched from MeadowClan techniques to their own, able to run through bushes and twigs as well as a young Warrior.” WhisperStar nodded at the tall Warrior, who bowed his head respectfully, before turning back to the wounded apprentices.

“This is disturbing news,” he meowed somberly, “and shall be brought up at the next Gathering. However, you two still need to be punished.” His yellow eyes were strict and calm, and Sparrowpaw bowed her head in response, Nightpaw not far behind. “While your actions led to us discovering the existence of this Traitor, they also gravely endangered not only yourselves, but the response patrol and, as a whole, the Clan itself. Not only that, but your actions leading to that point were completely unbecoming of soon-to-be Warriors. Not only that, but you chose the border of another Clan to enact such actions, and, by doing so, risked showing possible enemies our techniques and also risked damaging the integrity of our Clan.” Sparrowpaw and Nightpaw were cringed close to the ground, ears pinned and eyes down in shame.

“Your punishments will be separate, and chosen by your mentors,” Foxtail informed them icily, green-gold eyes flashing in the dim lighting. Palestripe stepped forward, and looked down at Sparrowpaw in disappointment, making her flinch slightly, guild tightening her throat.

“You, Sparrowpaw, will be on Nursery Duty for the next two moons,” he said seriously. “You will not eat until all the kits and their queens have eaten. You will watch over and guard the kits while their queens rest or hunt or patrol. You will make sure that all injuries or sickness or threats are taken care of, and will gather bedding for them as needed. From now on, you will only hunt at sun-rise and sun-high, and no other time. Those kits and their queens are now your responsibility, for the next two moons. It would have been longer, but it has been agreed that your defense and continued protection of an injured Clanmate in a hostile situation, as well as your obvious regret of your actions leading to that point, has earned you some leniency. Understand?” Sparrowpaw bowed her head.

“I understand,” she mewed; he nodded and slipped out the door. Windclaw stepped forward with a cool expression, and Sparrowpaw felt Nightpaw curl against her instinctively.

“Your punishment, Nightpaw, will be to be a temporary apprentice for Rainstorm,” he intoned. “You will  help him gather ingredients, memorize the duties of a medicine cat, and, for all intents and purposes, _act_ like one, though you shall not commune with StarClan. You will not hunt for food, except in the time before sun-down, and you will obey Rainstorm as if he was your only mentor. You will do this for the next three moons, as it was your challenge that led to these issues. Understood?” Nightpaw nodded meekly, and meowed an agreement. Windclaw nodded, shot Sparrowpaw an inscrutable look, before taking his leave of the Medicine Den.

“Due to your injuries,” WhisperStar meowed as Foxtail slipped out after the other Warrior, “your punishments will not start in full immediately. Sparrowpaw, you will be moved into the Nursery Den, and help where you can until fully healed. Nightpaw, you will be staying here, and learning as you can until you are able to leave the camp to assist Rainstorm.”

“Yes, WhisperStar,” the two apprentices replied softly; he nodded his large head, and slipped out of the den. Miserable, Sparrowpaw curled her body against Nightpaw, and, for once, the usually cantankerous tom didn’t make a noise in complaint, curling lightly against her as well.

“…I’m sorry,” he uttered softly; she purred quietly.

“Me too,” she murmured, and the two of them, still tired from the previous day’s ordeal, fell asleep quickly.

Sparrowpaw was moved to the Nursery Den the next day, and found herself quickly exhausted. There were six kits and three queens in the Nursery (although there was usually only queen at any given time). Two were in their fifth moon, three were barely two moons, and, of Softtail’s late litter, only one survived, an all white tom aptly named Whitekit, who was actually WhisperStar’s only current kit. While Sparrowpaw would admit that she cared for the kits, as they were the future of her Clan, she found herself wondering just how she was to take care of such demanding little creatures.

The two oldest kits were Blossomheart’s and Stonefang’s kits, and always wanting something from her. Stormkit, a gray tabby queen with black stripes, was always wanting a lesson on how to be a Warrior. Specklekit, her younger sister, was a silver tortoiseshell that wanted stories about Sparrowpaw’s training as much as possible. If they weren’t sleeping or eating, they were crawling on her despite her wounds and waking her up with their demands.

The three other kits were easier, but still demanding. These three were actually her relatives, as their mother, Sunset (an orange queen with a white chest, muzzle, and tail-tip, who Sunpaw was actually named after) was Daisyheart’s sister. Their father was Palestripe, so that added to her interest in keeping them healthy and happy. The oldest of the three was little Tigerkit, who looked like an orange version of his father, with pale orange stripes and white paws instead of a blaze on his head. His sister Flowerkit was all yellow with Palestripe's head blaze, but no stripes. The final kit, Pebblekit, was actually extremely lucky to be alive. She was extremely small, and had been very week in her first moon, nothing but soft golden-brown fur and too-big limbs. She was stronger, now, and catching up to her siblings in moving around. The three siblings were rather easy to care for, but they never wanted their mother out of their sight, always demanding her return or crying themselves into an exhausted sleep.

Sparrowpaw thanked StarClan for Whitekit, because without the little tom, she was positive she would have been left without any form of peace. Whitekit never made a single unhappy sound unless it was time for his milk. He never demanded her attention or cried and fought with her when she attempted to clean him. No, when Softtail needed a little peace from the kits, Sparrowpaw was overjoyed, because Blossomheart and Sunset never left their kits when Softtail was gone, and so the apprentice _only_ had to worry about the small newborn. So, when she watched over him, all she had to do was curl around his tiny body, clean him, and make sure he continued to breath and didn’t slip away to StarClan in his sleep, which sometimes happened.

She prayed to StarClan that he survived Leafbare…

That _all_ the kits survived. The Clan was too small already, and with the loss of Softtail’s other three kits, they truly couldn’t afford to lose any more potential Warriors or Queens.

Leaffall was getting closer, the nights longer and days shorter. Sparrowpaw and Nightpaw were healing, though they’d bare their scars. Sparrowpaw now had claim to a set of thin scars across her right shoulder, ending at her chest. Nightpaw now had almost as many scars as Stonefang, a tattered ear, and a slightly less aggressive attitude. If anything, he became somewhat withdrawn, and yet he seemed more comfortable in his skin as well.

Two moons and two Gatherings passed, and news of more Rogue activity, and hints of a Traitor grew stronger, leaving all the cats on edge. Sparrowpaw didn’t know what to do, though she welcomed Stormkit and Specklekit as the two became apprentices. Stormkit became Stormpaw, and gained Rabbitfoot as her mentor, while Specklekit, now Specklepaw, was mentored by Blacktail. So far, they both showed promise in speed and stealth, though they were easily distracted, and got lost several times in their first moon as apprentices.

Still, she welcomed them into the Apprentice Den, and they made a large nest to the side of the den to share.

The third moon, the last Leaffall moon, marked both the end of Nightpaw’s punishment, and Apprenticeship.

“Let all those cats old enough to catch their own prey join here beneath the Tallstump for a Clan Meeting,” WhisperStar yowled, and, quickly, all the cats gathered at the base, looking up at the white tom as Foxtail took her place on the stump to his right. WhisperStar waited until they were quiet, and Sparrowpaw absently swatted Stormpaw and Specklepaw over the head when they started murmuring to one another, hissing at them to be quiet and pay attention. Rabbitfoot gave her an approving nod, which the young cat returned silently, before turning her gray eyes to the Clan Leader.

“Today, we will be gaining a new Warrior,” WhisperStar meowed calmly, though his whiskers were lifted and his yellow eyes were both proud and pleased. “He has spent the last seven moons training under both Windclaw and, recently, Rainstorm. He was, at the beginning of his training, a rash, aggressive tom, but has since learned patience and diligence, and has proved himself a capable Warrior.” Yowls and caterwauls and screeches rose from the crowd, cheering joyfully for the young cat. WhisperStar indulged them, letting them cheer, before a sharp movement of his tail silenced them.

“Nightpaw, step forward,” he called; the sleek, scarred tom obeyed, silently stepping out of the crowd, head high and eyes locked on the Leader, before he leaped onto the low stump to WhisperStar’s left, and turned to sit, looking out at his Clan with whiskers lifted and happy green eyes. WhisperStar looked towards the sky, where stars were just beginning to show as the sun went down. The moon was half-full, and snow would come before the next gathering. WhisperStar lowered his eyes back to his Clan, and lifted his whiskers.

“Tonight, our new Warrior will hold vigil,” the white tom called. “He will guard us while we sleep, with only StarClan as company. Tonight, we honor him, and place our lives and the lives of our future kits, in his paws. StarClan guide you and may your life be long and filled with many kits,” WhisperStar meowed directly to Nightpaw, who inclined his head in a rather regal fashion, which had Sparrowpaw’s whiskers lifting in amusement.

“We welcome you, Nightfur!” WhisperStar yowled; and the Clan raised their own cries, the falling night echoing with their cheers as the newly named Nightfur preened and purred. “May StarClan watch over and guide us!” WhisperStar announced, dismissing the meeting; Nightfur leaped from his stump and joined the Clan, rubbing against one another joyfully and sharing companionable licks.

“Well done,” Sparrowpaw purred as they rubbed their heads together.

“You’ll come after Grasspaw, no worries,” he assured her, and she purred before breaking away from the crowd, joining her brother in the Apprentice Den for sleep.

It was a good night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A MOON IS A MONTH  
> (Example: 3 moons = 3 months  
> Sparrowpaw & Sunpaw: 11 moons  
> Nightfur: 13 moons  
> Grasspaw: 12 moons  
> Stormpaw & Specklepaw: 7 moons  
> Tigerkit, Flowerkit, & Pebblekit: 5 moons  
> Whitekit: 3 moons  
> If you want to know a specific cats age, just ask!


	8. Chapter Seven

**_Chapter Seven_ **

****

“Careful, Stormpaw,” Sparrowpaw cautioned as she saw the gray tabby playing on a tree bridge. Leafbare had come quickly, and snow deep enough to cover the tall grass had come. They had been forced to dig through it in order to exit their dens just the other morning, and the queens had been temporarily exiled to the Nursery Den to keep the kits alive and warm.

“I’ll be _fine_ , Sparrowpaw!” The younger apprentice mewed indignantly. “I’m not some rock-pawed idiot, stumbling around carelessly!” Sparrowpaw huffed softly, and sent the younger cat a glare.

“You wouldn’t have to be, in this weather,” she hissed back, exasperated and annoyed, but also worried enough to stand and wander closer to the tree, making a show at sniffing bird tracks in the snow. Specklepaw had not survived her second moon as an apprentice, falling to the fangs of a fox while out hunting. Her death had been a blow to the Clan, and her sister had taken to acting out and being rather nasty, especially to Blacktail, who had been crushed with the death of her apprentice. It had gotten to the point where Stonefang had had to step in and scold his only remaining kit, giving her punishment detail, which was what Sparrowpaw was currently overseeing. None of the cats liked hunting in this weather, but food was needed, and so the brown tabby was watching over the younger apprentice while they were doing so.

“The tracks are stale,” she meowed, and sent Stormpaw a stern look. “Come, we must try somewhere else.” The younger she-cat huffed, but obeyed, reluctantly leaping from the tree bridge and following after the larger queen as Sparrowpaw led her through the snow.

“Are we almost done?” Stormpaw meowed in complaint. “My paws are frozen!” Sparrowpaw snarled at her, abruptly furious with her continued attitude; Stormpaw cringed, eyes huge and ears pinning back.

“This is a _punishment_ detail for you, Stormpaw!” The brown tabby hissed. “You will finish it without further complaint, because that is what it means to be a Warrior! And, honestly, with the attitude you’ve had for the past four days, I’m not sure if you’re even cut _out_ to be a Warrior!” Stormpaw flinched under Sparrowpaw’s glare, before the two started walking again, the younger cat walking with her head down and ears back, ashamed. Sparrowpaw felt guilt steadily push aside her ire and, after a few moments, she sighed.

“I’m sorry for snapping, Stormpaw,” she meowed quietly; Stormpaw’s ears flicked up, turning towards her though her head stayed down. “I understand that you’re still mourning Specklepaw’s death, but that doesn’t give you the rite to disrespect your fellow apprentices or the Warriors, _especially_ when Leafbare is just _starting_! The Clan needs _Warriors_ right now, not _kits_ , and it is now your responsibility, as an apprentice, to act right.” She sighed again and stopped walking, looking down at the younger cat, who was only now reaching her eighth moon, and brushed the smaller cat’s shoulder with her tail. “Everyone is hungry and cold and scared right now, Stormpaw,” she murmured kindly, and, finally, Stormpaw looked up at her, blue eyes uncertain.

“Even WhisperStar,” she mewed softly; Sparrowpaw’s whiskers lifted.

“ _Especially_ WhisperStar,” she replied. “He’s the MeadowClan Leader, and every cat in the Clan is his responsibility.” Stormpaw considered that, before nodding.

“Sorry, Sparrowpaw,” she meowed; Sparrowpaw nodded and rubbed her head against the younger cat affectionately.

“Let’s go, Stormpaw,” she meowed; the two darted through the snow, ears and eyes alert for danger, Leafbare was the time when wolves and foxes were at their most dangerous, willing to venture close in the hopes of food, despite the many Twoleg dens around the three Clans (Well, two, really, as CreekClan didn’t have to worry about them as much). As the sun moved across the sky, however, Sparrowpaw and Stormpaw relaxed and focused more on hunting. They managed to catch a hare together, as well as an owlet Sparrowpaw found in one of the few trees in MeadowClan territory (she had been hunting a squirrel when the owlet hissed at her and she changed prey immediately).

“Let’s head back,” Sparrowpaw meowed, taking the heavier hair as Stormpaw struggled under the weight of the owlet. As the two moved back towards the camp, a familiar scent had Sparrowpaw pausing, blinking around the white expanse around them. A few dozen fox-lengths away, Windclaw was disappearing through a bush, moving towards the border of the territory near the Snake Pit.

 _Isn’t he supposed to be patrolling the WoodClan border today?_ Sparrowpaw wondered, before shaking her head and hurrying after Stormpaw, who hadn’t noticed, meowed at her curiously. _Maybe he’s just checking for any Rogues_ , she decided, and continued on her way to camp.

“Good hunting, I see,” Sunpaw meowed warmly as he padded up to her when they entered the camp, earning a purr from his sister, before hurrying forward and helping Stormpaw with her burden. The fresh kill stone had been mostly cleared of snow, and there was already a pair of dead squirrels there, one half-eaten. The Clan would share its meals, with the kits, their queens, and the Elders getting first bits like usual. Once Stormpaw had gotten her part of the meal, she disappeared into the Apprentice Den, while Sparrowpaw decided to join Nightfur and Grasspaw on their Border Patrol, the three of them running down towards the CreekClan Border. When they reached it, Sparrowpaw remembered her confusion earlier.

“Nightfur, what border was Windclaw supposed to patrol today?” she asked her friend as they wandered; the black tom flicked an ear towards her, but kept his eyes on their surroundings, as did the two she-cats.

“WoodClan border,” he replied absently. “Why?” Sparrowpaw felt slightly uneasy, but mostly just confusion.

“I saw him earlier, heading towards the Snake Pits,” she admitted, leaping over a frozen branch.

“Maybe he’s hunting or double-checking for Rogues,” Grasspaw meowed; Sparrowpaw nodded in agreement, and Nightfur told them to stop talking about it.

“You never know who’s listening,” he growled, and the three fell silent.

But, despite this, Sparrowpaw couldn’t help but still feel uneasy.

When they returned to the camp for the night, Windclaw was already there, eating some of the hare Sparrowpaw had helped hunt before. He nodded at Nightfur in greeting, gave Grasspaw and Sparrowpaw a polite blink, before licking his whiskers and slipping away into the Warriors Den. Sparrowpaw’s unease grew, but she couldn’t understand why.

That night, while she curled up with the other apprentices to conserve heat, she realized what had bothered her over Windclaw’s actions that day.

_Warriors are **never** to patrol or hunt alone in Leafbare._

Her realization and disquiet followed her into her dreams, which were filled with the memories of the day those Rogues had circled her, but, this time, there was no response patrol, and she woke, gasping and shivering, in the dark before dawn, unable to go back to sleep.


	9. Chapter Eight

**_Chapter Eight_ **

****

Leafbare was a harsh season, and one that had in the past forced the three Clans to, temporarily, work together in a way. Oh, they didn’t share territory or food or shelter, oh no. The medicine cats, however, often required an escort to the Fallen Oaks, where they would discuss trades and shortages of medicine, any outbreaks of illnesses that could bring many deaths to the Clans. Even antagonistic and isolated CreekClan offered such information, when in every other season they would rather protect their own Clan and let the others die.

Because of this need, however, the journey was taken twice a moon during Leafbare, and this time, Sparrowpaw would be a part of the escort. It was her first time in the No-Clan Territory and the Fallen Oaks, as apprentices weren’t allowed at any Gatherings, considering they took place on the trees themselves, and there was always a risk of falling off for younger cats.

“Don’t bite too hard, Sparrowpaw,” Nightfur meowed as he carefully handed her a kit-sized bundle of dried poppy flowers, carefully wrapped in an old squirrel pelt. “We don’t want you to crush the flowers and release the seeds, or end up chewing a seed while we’re traveling.” Sparrowpaw awkwardly and carefully nodded, and was just relieved that she wasn’t Rabbitfoot at that moment, because the gray queen was the one elected to carry the squirrel pelt that held the bundles of mouse bile soaked moss, and the smell was strong enough to make Sparrowpaw’s nose and eyes burn.

“Did you all eat your ragweed?” Rainstorm meowed; and Sparrowpaw purred her agreement, remembering the strange-tasting leaves she’d had to eat for strength. Though the journey wasn’t long, they would have to stay at the Fallen Oaks for a long while, with little shelter, and so she would need the strength. “Let’s go, then,” the black tom meowed, scooping up his vole pelt pack holding some Tormentil roots, and led the way. Nightfur, carrying a squirrel pelt filled with cobwebs, leaped after him Rabbitfoot and Sparrowpaw following quickly.

They reached the edge of the No-Clan Territory and, without hesitation, crossed the Border. Sparrowpaw’s heart gave a thrill, beating faster with excitement as they left MeadowClan territory behind and continued deeper onward. The different scents startled her more than the new sights of trees and bushes. Cat scents were faint, and, instead, the scents of trees and other animals, and even Twolegs, overpowered the half-familiar scent trails her Clanmates had taken through this section of the No-Clan Territory, making the hair on her ruff instinctively rise, unnerved as well and excited about the newness of the area.

“Stay close,” Nightfur meowed, voice muffled by his burden. “And stay quiet.” Sparrowpaw and Grasspaw nodded and instantly refocused, ears swiveling intently, searching for the sounds of danger. They continued on in silence, before, suddenly, they cresting a hill, and the four of them paused at the top.

“Whoa,” Sparrowpaw murmured, getting a slow, agreeing nod from Grasspaw as the two apprentices laid their eyes on the Fallen Oak’s for the first time. The two trees themselves were massive, as thick around as some Twoleg Monster’s were long, and sprawled over the top of a narrow, deep ravine that was, from what they could see, filled with jagged roots and sharp rocks, the sound of running water echoing through the air from it’s depths.

“Barkfur and his Apprentice are already here,” Rainstorm meowed suddenly, and Sparrowpaw followed his line of sight to the far end of the trees, spotting a large, fat-looking cat with dark brown fur and thin black stripes. Next to him was a fluffy silver she-cat, who was apparently going over what few supplies they had brought. Rainstorm yowled, and the two cats looked up, their escort (an all-white tom and a pretty calico queen) coming out from their sentry places in the dead branches of the Fallen Oaks. Barkfur yowled in reply, and Rainstorm nodded.

“Come,” he ordered, before leading the way down the hill, their group quick to follow. Soon enough, they were leaping up onto the Oaks, and darting down the long, long trunks to reach the end, which lay on the far side of the narrow ravine.

“Rainstorm, how are you this day?” Barkfur asked, voice solemn but kind; Rainstorm lifted his whiskers and nodded his head to the WoodClan cat, while gesturing with his tail for Sparrowpaw and the others to set their burdens down nearby.

“I am well, Barkfur. And you?” The brown tabby cat huffed softly, his own whiskers lifting in amusement.

“I am the same,” he meowed in return, and flicked his tail to the side towards the young, fluffy queen behind him, who was resolutely counting strips of willow bark. “My new Apprentice, Owlpaw,” he introduced; the silver she-cat look up, and her bright blue eyes gleamed brightly as she mewed a soft ‘hello’. Rainstorm bobbed his head towards her in his own greeting, and flicked his tail at Nightfur, who paused from where he was making sure that none of their own supplies had spilled or would be blown away.

“Nightfur, a young Warrior and my own temporary apprentice,” Rainstorm introduced; the young tom bobbed his head while Sparrowpaw sat down between the cold, light wind and the dried poppy flowers. Barkfur tilted his head in question, and Nightfur answered him.

“I was on punishment detail,” he meowed sardonically; the WoodClan medicine cat’s whiskers lifted, eyes narrowing in amusement, before he nodded in understanding. Before any more could be said, a loud yowl sounded from the distance, and every cat turned towards it instinctively.

A tall, pale brown tabby queen was standing at the far tip of the ravine. Behind her stood three other cats, her escort. As she led the three around the ravine and towards the Fallen Oaks, Sparrowpaw took a moment to examine their group.

To the she-cat’s immediate left was a large brown tom with thick, shaggy fur and a badly torn ear, carrying a large leaf-bundle. Behind him ran a young, longhaired queen with a cream-colored coat, her paws, ears, and muzzle a dark brown, and carried in her jaws was a similar bundle. Finally, bringing up the rear, was a young tom who was well on his way to being massive, his gray-and-white coat blending in the snowy shadows. He looked rather familiar to Sparrowpaw, but she couldn’t quite remember…

“I see Amberdawn has recovered from her illness,” Barkfur meowed idly as the two medicine cats sat up straight to await the CreekClan cats. Rainstorm purred softly and nodded his head.

“That is good,” he meowed in reply. “I had honestly feared that she would fall to the wet-cough, like her predecessor.” Barkfur nodded grimly as the CreekClan cats reached the far end of the Oaks, and began to move towards the waiting cats.

“Rippleshine was a _fine_ medicine cat,” he acknowledged. “A little foolhardy, but well-meaning.” Amberdawn and her escort finally made it, and, with a flick of her tail, she had her Clanmates setting down their bundles in an empty dip in the bark.

“Barkfur, Rainstorm,” she meowed politely in greeting; the two toms meowed back, before she flicked her tail behind her. “I’m sure you two know Briarfoot,” she said; the large shaggy tom bobbed his head, blue eyes bland and disinterested as he settled down to guard their supplies. Rainstorm and Barkfur, again, greeted the Warrior, before Rainstorm stretched.

“Let’s get things started, shall we?” The three cats nodded, and began to discuss the supplies they’d brought, bargaining, haggling, and completely ignoring everything around them as they did so. Sparrowpaw decided that, as it appeared she was currently unneeded, to introduce herself to some of the other young cats, starting with the already-known Owlpaw, who had stopped her counting and was now licking her long, silver fur.

“Hello,” Sparrowpaw greeted her cautiously; Owlpaw twitched, head jerking up and bright blue eyes startled, before her whiskers lifted in hesitant welcome.

“Hello,” she greeted back tentatively; Sparrowpaw cautiously laid down, and lifted her whiskers toward the other she-cat.

“My name’s Sparrowpaw,” she introduced; the WoodClan medicine cat apprentice nodded in acknowledgement.

“Owlpaw,” she meowed back; Sparrowpaw purred.

“Is this your first Leafbare Medicine Trade?” she asked cautiously; the silver apprentice nodded slightly.

“Barkfur decided that I’d learned enough,” she informed the other she-cat carefully; Sparrowpaw purred and began to lick her paws, absently using her teeth to pull the painful snow from between her paw-pads.

“This is my first time to the Oaks,” Sparrowpaw mewed absently, ear swiveling instinctively as she noticed the oddly familiar CreekClan tom casually approaching.

“Mine too,” Owlpaw agreed; they didn’t have time to say more before the tom was there, eying the two critically, but not aggressively, green eyes narrowing on Sparrowpaw consideringly.

“…Do I know you?” he asked her; she huffed and sat up, narrowing her gray eyes and opening her mouth, leaning closer and breathing in his scent while he cautiously did the same. Sparrowpaw pulled back in time to sneeze, the scent of muddy water tickling her throat. She sneezed again, and blinked at the larger cat cautiously.

“…Aren’t you Redclaw’s apprentice?” She asked, ears twitching as she tried to remember; he blinked, and then his eyes lit up with understanding.

“Ah,” he meowed, nodding, pleased with his realization. “You’re that one tom’s apprentice, from moons ago. Pale-something, I think his name was…” Sparrowpaw nodded.

“Palestripe,” she said; he bobbed his head, before lifting a foot to scratch at his ruff, yawning hugely.

“Well, I suppose I’ll have to reintroduce myself,” he meowed easily, green eyes bright but body still tense and cautious. “I am Heronpaw, of CreekClan.” Sparrowpaw bobbed her head.

“Sparrowpaw of MeadowClan,” she said; Owlpaw sat up, gaining their attention, and lifted her whiskers warmly.

“Owlpaw of WoodClan,” she greeted them; Heronpaw purred in greeting, before a sharp hissing sound from his cream-furred Clanmate had him glaring over at her, where she was glaring at the three of them from beside Briarfoot, who was ignoring it. Heronpaw huffed in annoyance.

“Don’t mind Coldpaw,” he mewed quietly to the she-cats, eyes narrowing on his Clanmate. “She’s got a burr stuck in her tail whenever it comes to these sorts of meetings. _‘Every cat is an enemy’_ ” he mimicked in a mockingly high-pitched mew. “ _’we should never deal with any cat but a CreekClan cat’_ she always says.” Sparrowpaw purred, amused, before Owlpaw let out a sharp huff of air and jerked suddenly, gaining the other two apprentices attention immediately. Her blue eyes were wide, pupils tiny, and locked on the gray sky, her fur fluffing up and her body going unnaturally still. A ripple of unease had Sparrowpaw’s fur standing and a high-pitched growl escaping her throat, Heronpaw’s own rising and matching hers.

“What is it?” Rainstorm demanded as he appeared at Sparrowpaw’s side, Barkfur and Amberdawn appearing as well, the WoodClan medicine cat moving straight to Owlpaw’s side.

“A message from StarClan,” he meowed softly; Sparrowpaw shifted sharply, and her ears pinned back. Rainstorm brushed his tail against her shoulder in silent comfort, but his eyes remained locked on the WoodClan apprentice.

“It is an unpleasant feeling for first-time observers,” he meowed quietly to the shivering apprentice, and she managed a shallow nod, while the rest of the Clan escorts circled their group, eyes sharp and muscles tense, waiting.

With a sudden, sharp movement, Owlpaw’s eyes closed and she shook herself, shuddering, like she had just climbed out of cold water.

“What was it?” Barkfur asked kindly; his apprentice took a slow, shaking breath, and opened her eyes, which were narrowed in confusion as they glanced up at him.

“It was a message from StarClan,” she meowed, sitting, looking puzzled, “but it was not for WoodClan.” Cats murmured, but Owlpaw ignored them, and, suddenly Sparrowpaw found herself locking gazes with the fluffy silver cat, and the surrounding cats quieted as Owlpaw spoke.

“ _Truth brought forth from a flock of crows_ ,” she informed her fellow apprentice, and Sparrowpaw found her fur standing once more on end, unnerved but unable to look away as the WoodClan cat spoke to her. “ _Beware the one who hides in plain sight._ ” Owlpaw broke their locked gazes, and Sparrowpaw let herself shudder fiercely, shaking her fur uneasily back into place.

“What does that mean?” she managed to meow hesitantly; Owlpaw wouldn’t look at her, still confused, so the young tabby queen turned her gray eyes to Rainstorm, who looked slightly grim.

“Only time will tell,” he finally meowed seriously. “StarClan’s meaning are often unveiled over time, and so, we shall have to wait and see.” Sparrowpaw murmured her agreement, and, slowly, the cats separated and went back to their previous conversations. Owlpaw slunk over to curl against the side of the WoodClan calico queen (“Spottedclaw,” Nightfur informed her when Sparrowpaw asked. “The tom is Snowheart. If you ever find yourself fighting, pray you’re fighting him. Spottedclaw may seem sweet at the moment, but she’s been known to kill cats in simple border battles, while Snowheart is well-known for treating queen’s respectfully and gently.”), while Sparrowpaw found herself being effectively herded off to the side by Heronpaw and Nightfur, the two toms eying one another warily. After they had locked eyes for several moments, Heronpaw huffed and flicked his ears irritably, tapping the she-cat on the shoulder.

“I’ll see you at a Gathering sometime, Sparrowpaw,” he meowed; she bobbed her head and watched as the already-large tom stalked away. Nightfur hissed softly after him, and Sparrowpaw swatted the black-furred tom with a huff.

“No fighting at the Fallen Oaks, Nightfur,” she hissed softly; it was his turn to huff, before he led her over to Grasspaw and the separate escorts all remained in their little groups while the medicine cats continued to talk.

It wasn’t until they were well on their way back to the camp, that Sparrowpaw felt a chill as she abruptly remembered something.

The message from StarClan said “ _Truth brought forth from a flock of crows_ ”. But a group of crows was never called a _Flock_.

It was called a _Murder_.

 


	10. Chapter Nine

**_ Chapter Nine _ **

 

“Let all those cats old enough to catch their own prey join here beneath the Tallstump for a Clan Meeting,” WhisperStar yowled hoarsely over the frigid wind, and those cats braving the nasty weather quickly called their comrades who remained curled up in their dens. Sparrowpaw grumbled beneath her breath as she reluctantly crawled from her nice, warm nest at Grasspaw’s insistence, joining her brother and Stormpaw as the Apprentices hurried to huddle with the rest of their Clan before their Leader, shoulders hunched and heads ducked as the harsh wind tossed loose snow about and over them.

With his back to the wind, WhisperStar did not hunch, nor flinch, ears up and turned towards his Clan, yellow eyes gleaming. To his right, Foxtail sat just as still, though her head was ducked slightly, green-gold eyes narrowed against the flurries.

“Tonight is a Gathering at the Fallen Oaks,” WhisperStar called to them all as they focused up at him, his dirty white fur blending in with the snow around them. “And this night, we welcome not _only_ , three new Apprentices,” he informed them, nodding over to Sunset as the orange queen herded her three kits into the center of the group of cats, “but also a Warrior.” Beside Sparrowpaw, Grasspaw jolted, green eyes going wide, and the Clan erupted into yowls and caterwauls to show their pleasure and pride.

“Come forward, Grasspaw,” WhisperStar ordered calmly; the fluffy gray queen obeyed, stumbling forward against the wind, to jump up onto the snow-covered short stump on the Leader’s left. WhisperStar turned his yellow eyes back onto the awaiting cats, and lifted his whiskers in fondness.

“Grasspaw has spent the past eight moons training under Robinheart. She has, in that time, proved herself to be intelligent, loyal, and patient, often spending what time she could teaching small survival tricks to the kits, such as how to hide and stay down wind. She has proved herself more than worry of being a proud Warrior for MeadowClan.” Once more a cacophony of sounds arose from the Clan as they agreed and celebrated the young cat’s life.

“Tonight, our new Warrior will hold Vigil, while those chosen will travel to the Fallen Oaks for out Full Moon Gathering,” the Leader yowled as the Clan quieted. “She will guard the sleep of our Clanmates, our kits, and our home, with only StarClan as company. Tonight, we honor her, and place our lives and the lives of our future kits, in her paws. StarClan guide you, and may your life be long and filled with many kits,” WhisperStar finished the customary speech, before he leaped lightly down onto Grasspaw’s stump, standing so tall over her tat the gray she-cat looked far smaller than she actually was.

“We welcome you, Grassrunner!” WhisperStar declared; the Clan screeched their approval as the newly named Warrior purred and lifted her whiskers, sitting tall and proud despite the chilly wind that tossed her fluffy fur about roughly. “You may greet your Clanmates,” the Leader told her, and Grassrunner immediately obeyed, leaping from the stump to join her Clan, rubbing against them all and purring loudly, all the while trying not to get buried in the newest snow that was tossed by the wind. Sparrowpaw shook her head slightly as she noticed her brother’s adoring gaze on their friend, whiskers lifted in fond exasperation as she swatted him on the head with her tail, earning a soft, half-hearted hiss from Sunpaw as he sulked at her teasing.

“Will the three kits step forward,” WhisperStar called; in response, Tigerkit, Flowerkit, and Pebblekit obeyed after a brief nudge of encouragement from their mother, the three kit’s leaping up onto the short stump and facing their Clan, huddled together with warmth. Sparrowpaw couldn’t help but feel some pride as she took in the three kit’s appearance, knowing that she had helped care for these three soon-to-be Apprentices once upon a moon.

Tigerkit was the largest still, his tabby coat thick and bright against the white background, orange fur gleaming, and stripes appearing darker than they had once been. His eyes had changed, from kit-blue to a clear amber, and he all but quivered, though Sparrowpaw couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or excitement, or even nerves.

His sister, Flowerkit, was already on her way to becoming a beautiful queen, her yellow fur sleek and smooth, the white blaze on her head looking like a small cap of snow. Her own eyes were a bright, clear blue, paler then they had been when se was a young kit, and she looked very pleased with herself, head held high and tail curled around her sister as she looked out at her Clan with pride.

Pebblekit, worryingly enough, was still small, though her thick, fluffy golden-brown fur made her appear a little ways bigger than she was. Her eyes were gold, and nervous as she huddled against her larger sibling, kneading the snowy wood beneath her paws as she glanced at their Leader with keen uncertainty, her fluffy plume of a tail sweeping a large amount of snow from behind her as she swished it anxiously.

“These three shall begin on their path to becoming Warriors today,” WhisperStar announced seriously, yellow eyes gleaming as he glanced up at the sky briefly, the full moon peeking out from around the gray clouds that covered the Silverpelt from view. “So, with the Blessing of StarClan, I name them Tigerpaw, Flowerpaw, and Pebblepaw!” The Clan cheered, Sunset loudest of all as she yowled for her three kits, while Sunpaw and Sparrowpaw were close seconds behind their aunt, pleased with their younger cousins.

“I shall now name their mentors,” WhisperStar declared hoarsely, and the Clan quickly quieted, ears perking despite the cold, whiskers quivering with excitement and interest as they awaited to see which cats would be named.

“Blossomheart,” he called out; the Queen stood and stepped forward, blue eyes bright as her silver tortoiseshell fur was ruffled and dotted with snow. “You have long proved your patience and dedication to your Clan, as both a Queen and a Warrior. I hope you will teach young Tigerpaw such virtues as you guide him down his Warrior Path.” The she-cat inclined her head and lifted her whiskers, as the orange tabby tom leaped eagerly from the stump and all but ran through the snow to lift his nose towards her. Amused, the tortoiseshell-queen obligingly touched her nose to his, and he quickly took his seat at her side, leaning into her thicker fur when a sharp blast of wind had almost the entire Clan hunching with shudders.

“Windclaw,” WhisperStar yowled over the next gust of wind, and the tall, gray tom stepped forward, ears pinned back as he faced the wind down, dual-colored eyes shut almost completely as he stared up at the Clan Leader. “I know you have only recently watched as your Apprentice became a proud MeadowClan Warrior, but we have need in these dangerous times, for your strength, cleverness, and tenacity. All of these, I know you will be able to impart on Flowerpaw as you guide her truly, as you have always done.” The tom in question nodded in acceptance to WhisperStar, as Flowerpaw leaped from the stump, stumbling as the wind overbalanced her, before she touched noses with her newly-made mentor, sitting at his side with a fluffed out chest, pleased.

“Rainstorm,” WhisperStar called, startling the Medicine Cat, who slowly stepped forward, eared perked curiously, his black fur standing out starkly against the snow, gold eyes gleaming in the dim lighting of the Full Moon. “As unusual as it is, Pebblepaw has specifically asked to become your Apprentice, wishing to take on the mantle of a Medicine Cat. I know you shall teach her diligence, dedication, and confidence in herself, as you guide her down her chosen path.”

“I will do so gladly,” the tom meowed, and touched noses with the shy, small Apprentice when she finally managed to slink over to him. As she took her seat at his side, WhisperStar looked over his Clan, and nodded.

“Now, I and those cats chosen will be leaving immediately for the Fallen Oaks,” he announced firmly. “I entrust the care and guidance of our newest Apprentices with their older counterparts. May StarClan watch over and guide us,” he declared, ending the Clan Meeting, before leaping from the stump. Within moments, the group for the Gathering was disappearing from the clearing, with WhisperStar, Foxtail, and Rainstorm in the lead, followed by Windclaw, Stonefang, Rabbitfoot, Palestripe, and Blacktail. Newly-named Grassrunner was already beginning her vigil, walking around the clearing attentively, on alert for any danger.

“Come on, you three,” Sparrowpaw meowed clearly, leading the three newly-named Apprentices towards their new den, Sunpaw and Stormpaw having already disappeared back to their nests.

“I’m so excited!” Tigerpaw crowed gleefully, prancing through the snow, amber eyes glowing faintly from the moon’s light. “But I’m so jealous of you, Flowerpaw!” He declared loudly as he turned  his head to look at his sister, who was sauntering smugly as they followed Sparrowpaw (who was listening with absent exasperation. “You got _Windclaw_! You’re so _lucky_!” The yellow queen made a soft, prim sound, chin lifted, but she said nothing as the three of them ducked into the den at Sparrowpaw’s gesture. With a quick glance around at the seemingly-deserted Camp (with the exception of the still circling Grassrunner), before she, to, entered the relative safety of the den, swatting Tigerpaw when it seemed he was beginning to get snappish with his sister, who continued to ignore his complaints in order to scrape her nest together, Pebblepaw tentatively forming her nest right next to the yellow queens.

“Shut your muzzle and get to sleep,” Sparrowpaw told them sternly as she made her way to the back of the den, where her own nest was waiting for her. “You’ll probably have a Dawn Patrol, as new Apprentices, and you do _not_ want to deal with that on little sleep.” Tigerpaw grumbled, but Flowerpaw hissed at him to be quiet, and, within a few minutes, the newest Apprentices had settled into their nests, and were on their way to being asleep.

Huffing lowly in bemusement, Sparrowpaw curled up in her nest, hiding her nose beneath her tail as she willed herself to sleep.

There would be much to do the next day.

Unfortunately, a full night’s sleep was not to be, as all the MeadowClan cats were abruptly roused by Grassrunner’s warning screech. Scrambling to their paws, those who could, rushed from their dens, to find the newly-named Warrior attacking one of two foxes who had crept their way into the camp. With a screech, Sparrowpaw leaped through the air towards the second fox, which was in the process of dragging a plaintively meowing, struggling Brownfur from the Elder’s den. Her attack and battle cry roused the other cats from their sleepy stupor, and more battle cries rose as Warriors and Apprentices attacked and circled the two foxes.

Sparrowpaw was struggling with her hold upon the foxes back, mouth full of the thick, oily fur of the larger creature as she desperately clawed at it, making it yip and release Brownfur in order to snap sharp teeth at the Apprentice, the fetid stench of it’s breath making Sparrowpaw gag even as she was forced to leap away when those teeth grazed her side.

“Sparrowpaw!” Sunpaw cried, unable to get any closer as the fox snapped its teeth at him when he tried; Sparrowpaw ignored the blood trickling down her side as she once more leaped at the fox, bouncing off its head when it spun abruptly towards her. There was a pained yip off to the side as Nightfur, Grassrunner, and Sunset joined forces against their enemy, and, suddenly, Sparrowpaw found herself beside her brother, Stormpaw, and Robinheart, and didn’t hesitate.

With familiar moves, they confused and infuriated the fox, while Lostfoot and Thornclaw pulled Brownfur to safety, and Blossomheart and the three newest Apprenticed guarded the Nursery, where Softtail and Whitekit hid.

“Watch out!” Nightfur yowled as the second fox abruptly made a run towards Sparrowpaw’s group, and the cats scattered out of the way as the two foxes made their escape with the distraction. Quickly, Nightfur and Robinheart took chase to make sure that the foxes stayed away from the Clearing.

“Sparrowpaw!” Blossomheart called sharply; the younger she-cat immediately turned towards her, absently licking thick, hot fox blood from her whiskers, eyes wide and pupils huge from the thrill of the fight. “Go to the Fallen Oaks and inform the Gathering of the foxes. Who knows which Clan they’ll go after now.”

“On it,” Sparrowpaw agreed immediately, before turning and dashing into the snow-caked grasses, disappearing well enough despite her tabby coat.

The cold burned her lungs as she ran as fast as she could, ignoring the various stinging and burning pains from her scrapes, scratches, and small punctures from lucky swipes the fox had given her. Leaping neatly over a fallen tree as she fearlessly entered the No-Clan Territory, the she-cat continued running, barely pulling enough air in to yowl in warning just before she crested the hill just before the Gathering Place, what seemed like _moons_ later.

The cats sitting on the other end of the Fallen Oaks all looked towards her alertly, the three Leaders and their Deputies standing from their perches in the branches as the young tabby she-cat barreled down the hill and leaped neatly up onto the large trunks, ignoring the thrill of fear that made the fur along her spine stand on end, as she felt the ice that glazed the wood beneath her paws. Instead, she determinedly lunged down the length of the tree she was on, not even hesitating to leap high and far over a few belligerent-looking CreekClan Warriors, claws scrabbling for a hold as she slipped slightly and stumbled upon landing, only to continue on, dodging around the Warriors between her and her Leader, until she could _finally_ slide to a stop, bloody sides heaving heavily as her limbs shuddered and her body felt almost _too hot_ under her fur.

“What happened, Apprentice?” WhisperStar demanded, standing tall beside the tiny, black queen that was the WoodClan Leader, DarkStar, her gold eyes narrowed, while the gangly, thin brown tabby tom that was the CreekClan Leader, RippleStar, slunk up from behind them, hazel eyes gleaming green in the moonlight.

“Fox Attack,” Sparrowpaw managed to wheeze out against the biting cold that had infused her chest. “Two of them. Brownfur was gravely injured before we managed to chase them from the Camp. We don’t know whose Territory they’ll head for next, so I was sent to inform you and the other Leaders,” she gasped, sitting shaply with a short wheeze, coughing harshly as she tried to catch her breath.

“Stop talking, foolish Apprentice,” Rainstorm’s familiar, cantankerous growl ordered as Sparrowpaw abruptly found herself being nudged and prodded by the Medicine Cat as he muttered under his breath and glared at a few of her deeper injuries.

“I suggest we cut this Gathering short,” A soft, light voice suggested, and Sparrowpaw glanced towards it to find it came from DarkStar, who was looking up at her fellow Leaders with a faintly twitching tail.

“Agreed,” WhisperStar nodded; RippleStar hummed, before inclining his head, and turning towards the watching cats.

“CreekClan, come!” He ordered, before he led the way down the Fallen Oaks towards his territory, a third of the gathered cats going with him.

“I hope you live, Apprentice,” DarkStar told Sparrowpaw coolly, watching her with narrowed, sharop gold eyes, black fur stark in the snowy night. “I look forward to seeing your time as a Warrior,” she added, before tunring towards the waiting cats. “WoodClan!” She yowled, and her cats obeyed, following her off the tree trunks and disappearing silently amongst the surrounding trees and foliage.

“Come, MeadowClan,” WhisperStar ordered, before lifting Sparrowpaw up off the ground like a kit, despite the fact that she was fully grown. Sparrowpaw grunted, as the movement pulled her wounds painfully, but didn’t struggle as her Leader led the way back through the No-Clan Territory, Rainstorm running easily at his side to keep an eye on her as the Apprentice carefully curled up and remained silent, singing with every lunging movement WhisperStar made as he ran.

They made it back to the Camp, to find that Brownfur had died of her injuries. WhisperStar set Sparrowpaw down, and quietly joined the cats who were already Sharing Final Tongues with the Elder, bowing his large head over the bloodied body of the fallen Elder. Ears pinned back, Sparrowpaw hesitated in moving to join the gathering, only to be stopped by Rainstorm.

“You have all night to hold vigil over Brownfur, Apprentice,” he told her solemnly, gold eyes sad but stern. “Tend your own injuries first, then care for the dead.” Reluctantly, Sparrowpaw obeyed, moving towards his Den as the black tom deftly gathered all the other injured Clanmates and herded them after her.

Once her wounds were tended, Sparrowpaw made her way to Brownfur’s side, ears once more pinned back as she settled at Lostfoot’s side, Thornclaw moving to settle on her other side, as the three of them mourned the kind, sweet cat.

As the sun rose and turned the sky soft colors, not even the frigid wind of the night before disturbed the silent, mourning cats. Once the sun could be clearly seen, however, Thornclaw, Lostfoot, and Stonefang lifted the stiff body, and left the Camp to bury her a safe distance from the Camp.

“Get some sleep, Apprentice,” WhisperStar ordered Sparrowpaw when she hesitated in what to do, exhausted from her run, the fight, her injuries, and what little sleep she’d managed before it all. “The Warriors will do well enough without you for the morning.” Nodding her head gratefully, Sparrowpaw obeyed, slipping into the Apprentice Den and curling up in her nest at the far back, slipping swiftly into a doze.

When sleep finally came, she dreamed of Brownfur walking with StarClan, and knew her old friend was happy and at peace.


	11. Chapter Ten

**_ Chapter Ten _ **

 

Sparrowpaw had wondered when WoodClan would make a move on MeadowClan Territory, as they always did the closer to New-Leaf it got. The time of New-Leaf marked the return of the Twolegs, and with them brought an abundance of dogs and abandoned cats, and traps to try and capture any cats unlucky enough to find their bland rabbit-dropping Kittypet food appetizing. With New-Leaf brought dangers beyond the cold and hungry times of No-Leaf, and all the Clans were eager for as much protection as possible. So, Sparrowpaw had expected an attempt to take land soon, as the snow had finally stopped falling and the sun had started shining more often.

She just hadn’t expected such a large force to move in to take said territory, nor that the closest Patrol to respond would only be herself, her brother, Stonefang, and Windclaw.

“WoodClan, _attack!_ ” a cat had yowled, and out of the dense shrug that the MeadowClan cats had been passing, no less then _seven_ WoodClan cats had lunged, yowling as they leaped towards the startled MeadowClan cats.

Immediately, Sparrowpaw found herself bowled over with a high yowl, by a large white tom she vaguely recognized as Snowheart. Thrashing, Sparrowpaw desperately tried to escape the large cat’s grip on her neck, his weight pinning her on her side as she fought, blood beginning to dampen her throat as he held onto her firmly.

“Sparrowpaw!” Sunpaw cried, and the tabby queen had time to watch her brother wrench himself from the grip of a WoodClan Apprentice to lunge over and sink his teeth into Snowheart’s ear, ripping it badly and making the larger Warrior yowl in pain and loosen his grip. Sparrowpaw took her chance, twisting herself onto her back and striking at the toms face, making him pull away as her claws scored a shallow scratch down his cheek. Throwing herself out from under him, the Apprentice tried to get out of easy striking range, but found herself cut off by a calico Apprentice with a brown head and orange muzzle. The two young queens snarled at one another, Sparrowpaw’s gray eyes clashing with the WoodClan cat’s blue, and the two lunged at one another, teeth and claws seeking purchase as the two of them struggled.

A sharp, pained screech distracted the two Apprentices, and Sparrowpaw looked towards it in time to witness a WoodClan Warrior, a black and white tom with massive paws and large ears, tear open Sunpaw’s throat.

Sparrowpaw felt something in her chest go numb, her ears pinning back with horror as her brother tried to escape, his blue eyes wide and blank with terror as he looked to her for help. Sparrowpaw didn’t remember moving. She was suddenly airborne with a screech so high and loud it hurt her own ears, landing on the WoodClan cat with rage as she tore into him, making him yowl in pain and surprise as he tried to buck her off, writhing as Sparrow tore one of his large ears and carved deep scratches into his forehead. With a sudden roll, she was knocked off the tom, who lunged back to the safety of the WoodClan territory, but Sparrowpaw didn’t care, quickly moving to hover protectively over her brother, who was mewling weakly in pain.

A yowl announced the arrival of MeadowClan reinforcements, just as WhisperStar himself, as well as Foxtail, Nightfur, Grassrunner, and Palestripe appeared out of the snowy-covered grass, leaping into the fray with ruthlessness.

Sparrowpaw didn’t move from her spot over her brother, lashing out at any WoodClan cat that got too near, snarling and hissing, her mind blank of anything but the panic that had been there since her brother had been injured. She barely registered Windclaw killing the Apprentice she had fought earlier, making Snowheart screech in rage and strike out furiously at Stonefang, blinding the massive gray tabby in his fury and grief, before Nightfur was yowling and barreling him over, chasing him back into the WoodClan territory.

Sparrowpaw barely noticed when Foxtail killed a WoodClan Warrior, who had spent most of the battle wheezing hoarsely, his pale brown tabby fur clinging to his gaunt frame as he struggled to get away from the MeadowClan Deputy, only to fall to her sharp teeth and claws.

“WoodClan cats, retreat!” a large, shaggy brown tabby tom caterwauled, a nasty scratch covering his muzzle with blood. Immediately, the intruding cats tore themselves away from their fights as best they could, tearing off into the safety of their trees, chased to the edge of the boundary by Nightfur and Foxtail, who yowled after them threateningly.

“Are there any of us badly wounded?” WhisperStar demanded; Sparrowpaw let out a low sound, nudging her brother and getting the Leader’s attention. Sunpaw’s breathing was shallow and wet, his eyes half-lidded and his mouth bloody as he struggled. WhisperStar stepped over and gently nudged the yellow tom’s head, his yellow eyes grim as he examined the injury. Slowly, he lifted his head, met Sparrowpaw’s desperate grey eyes, and slowly shook his head.

Sparrowpaw felt her stomach _drop_ , and the yowl that escaped her was harsh and pained and _hurt_ , making her Clanmates flinch slightly, ears pinning back as she collapsed next to her brother’s side, curling against him tightly and hiding her face against his side. WhisperStar sat at Sunpaw’s head, bowing it over the Apprentice and pressing his nose to the young tom’s bloodied head.

“I ask my Warrior Ancestors to look down at this Apprentice,” the Leader began solemnly, and Sparrowpaw’s ears pinned back tightly against her head as the Dying Apprentice Ceremony began, a wounded sound escaping her throat as her brother’s breathing became slowly more labored and slow. “He has learned and lived the Warrior Code, and has given up his very life to uphold them in the service of his Clan. Let StarClan receive him as a Warrior, one who embodies the virtues of bravery, honesty, and loyalty. He shall be known as Sunflare.” In solemn response, the MeadowClan cats surrounding them lifted their heads, and sent up their approval in yowls and cries, carving the newly-made Warriors name into their hearts, and sending it clearly to StarClan.

Sparrowpaw did not join them, instead she shuddered, and slowly lifted her face to rest her head on her brother’s shoulder, grief tightening her throat as she whispered softly into his ear as he breathing worsened. He was not long for their world, now.

“Sunflare,” she whispered to him hoarsely, closing her eyes in pain as the ear twitched weakly towards him. “A Warrior StarClan can be proud of. A Warrior _I_ am proud of.” Sunflare shuddered weakly, and, not even a full breath later, he fell still, his final breath shuddering out of him in a slow sigh. Sparrowpaw stilled, before she hid her face once more against his side, shuddering weakly with a hurt noise.

After a few minutes, WhisperStar gently nudged her away, so that Sunflare could be carried back to the Clan to be honored properly. Stonefang was leaning heavily on Windclaw and Foxtail, while Grassrunner and Nightfur finished pulling the WoodClan dead to the border so that their Clanmates could honor them as well.

“Come, Apprentice,” Palestripe told Sparrowpaw quietly as he stepped to her side, letting her lean against him aimlessly, her gray eyes locked on her brother’s corpse as WhisperStar gently lifted it to lie across his shoulders solemnly. “Let’s get you back to Camp.” Sparrowpaw could only nod, and allowed her mentor to silently lead her.

That night, as they held Vigil for Sunflare, Sparrowpaw would swear on everything she knew, that she saw him standing in the open area across from her, made of stars and smiling gently, before he had turned and disappeared, no doubt going back to StarClan.

Her heart felt lighter, her grief leaving with him, and she knew that he was safe with StarClan from that night onward.


	12. Chapter Eleven

**_ Chapter Eleven _ **

 

Sparrowpaw hadn’t realized how distant she was being with her Clan after her brother’s a month before, until it was suddenly time for her Warrior Ceremony, and she only found out when she arrived, that two new litters had been born. Spring had all but snuck up on them all, and, in the setting sun, the green grass looked nearly orange. Blacktail was sitting proudly beside Robinheart; the two queens were purring proudly over their new litter while WhisperStar looked over them all with an approving eye.

“This night we celebrate not _only_ two new litters into our Clan, who will no doubt grow to be strong Warriors, but we celebrate one young Apprentice becoming a proud MeadowClan Warrior,” he declared hoarsely, and the Clan yowled their joy, while Nightfur and Grassrunner bumped and rubbed their shoulders against Sparrowpaw, who could only raise her whiskers in amused pleasure, looking up at her Leader in patient silence. WhisperStar lifted his tail, and dropped it forward sharply, a cutting gesture that made the gathered cats quiet down quickly.

“Before our Apprentice can be named, however, we must celebrate the naming of our newest Clanmates,” he declared. “Blacktail, your litter was born early this morning, before the sun began to rise. As such, step forward, and name your kits before the Clan and StarClan.” The calico queen obeyed, stepping forward with the firstborn kit hanging blindly from her jaws, while Windclaw and Palestripe assisted carrying the other two. Gently, the three climbed up onto the short stump, and sat the mewling, shivering bundles down, all but the firstborn, who continued to hang silently in the queen’s mouth. The kit was gray, with a black stripe down its back, hits tiny face scrunched up in confusion as it hung there.

“I give you Mosskit, daughter of Blacktail and Windclaw,” the calico declared, before she sat the kit down with her siblings. Instantly, the Clan yowled and meowed their greetings, and, beside the calico, Windclaw lifted his chin with pride. Blacktail turned and picked up the second kit, a brown and black splotched kit, which was bigger than Mosskit.

“I give you Barkkit, son of Blacktail and Windclaw,” the calico introduced, and the Clan once more raised their voices in greeting, even as she set the tom down and lifted his youngest sibling, a black kit with golden colored paws, and a splotch of gold over the right side of it’s small face, who mewled unhappily as it swung from it’s mothers gently hold.

“And, finally, I give you Rainkit, daughter of Blacktail and Windclaw,” Blacktail announced, and the Clan raised their voices once more, as the three cats lifted their fragile burdens, and leaped from the short stump, baring the newly welcomed and named kits back to the Nursery, where Blacktail would remain with them.

“May StarClan watch over and guide them,” WhisperStar declared, before nodding his head patiently while the Clan re-settled. Sparrowpaw wondered, briefly, what it would be like, to have kits, before pushing the thought away with a twitch of her ear, for later consideration. “Robinheart, your litter was born at Sunhigh. Step forward, and name your kits before the Clan and StarClan,” the white tom ordered calmly; instantly, the tabby queen obeyed, carrying her firstborn up onto the stump, while Nightfur left Sparrowpaw’s side and followed with the second kit. Robinheart stood proud on the short stump, and lifted the brown tabby kit in her jaws high, while Nightfur set his burden down carefully.

“I give you Snailkit, son of Robinheart and Nightfur,” the queen declared, and Sparrowpaw’s ears twitched sharply in surprise that her friend had sired a litter, but she did not hesitate in greeting the tiny kit along with the rest of her Clan. This surprise merely proved that she had been far too distant in her mourning, and she silently promised herself to reconcile with Nightfur, and the others, on the matter. Robinheart gently set her little tom down, and lifted his sibling high, the kit’s fluffy black fur matching that of its sire perfectly.

“I give you Quailkit, daughter of Robinheart and Nightfur,” the tabby queen announced, and, again, a cacophony of greetings rose, before Robinheart and Nightfur carried their two kits back to the Nursery, where Robinheart would remain, while the black tom returned to Sparrowpaw’s side, purring proudly when the young tabby queen bumped her head to his shoulder in congratulations.

“May StarClan watch over and guide them,” WhisperStar announced seriously, and the Clan once more quieted. “Now, with our kits newly named and welcomed, it is time for us to welcome our newest Warrior,” he declared; Sparrowpaw stood. “Come forward, Sparrowpaw.” Silently, Sparrowpaw obeyed, slipping through the Clan and leaping up onto the short stump, to sit and lift her head, staring out at her Clanmates with sharp, calm gray eyes, whiskers lifted attentively.

“Sparrowpaw has spent ten moons training under Palestripe,” WhisperStar announced calmly, seriously. “Longer than most Apprentices spend with their Mentors. This is not due to any fault of her own, but merely to do with circumstance. During these past ten months, we have seen her grow into a _fine_ young Warrior. We have seen her many virtues. Loyal, even in the face of adversity. Dedicated, even in the face of distasteful duty. Strength, both in character and heart, even when dealing with the death of her sibling. She has proved, time and again, that she will die for her Clan and, in proving such, she has _more_ than earned her Warrior Name.” The Clan yowled their agreement, and Sparrowpaw did not hesitate in bowing her head in thanks to the cries and support of these cats, whose lives she would gladly give her own to protect.

“Tonight, our new Warrior will hold Vigil,” WhisperStar announced, and the Clan obediently silenced once more. “She will guard our sleep, our newly born kits, and the entirety of MeadowClan, with only StarClan as company. Tonight, we honor her, and place our lives and the lives of our future kits, in her paws.” The Leader turned to her, and she looked up at him with a quiet patience as he stared into her eyes calmly. “May StarClan guide you, and may your life be long and filled with many kits,” he told her solemnly, before turning to once more face the Clan, his yellow eyes glowing in the dying rays of sunset.

“We welcome you, Sparrowwing!” He declared; the Clan’s voices rose, clear in the rising night, and the newly named Sparrowwing leapt from her perch to join them, rubbing her scent into her Clanmates fur, and getting their rubbed into her own, breathing in the thick scent of _Clan_ , of _Home_ , even as WhisperStar dismissed the meeting with his usual prayer.

“Well done,” Nightfur breathed against her shoulder; Sparrowwing could not help her purr as she returned the praise.

“Well done to you and your litter,” she told him, and lifted her whiskers in pleased amusement as her friend fluffed up with pride, before the newly made Warrior turned to find her old Mentor at her side, his gold eyes warm and proud, and the two touched noses affectionately.

“Sparrowwing,” he purred, tail flicking to touch her own. “It is a rather nice name, don’t you think?” he asked her; Sparrowwing purred and bumped her head against his shoulder.

“I’ll have to keep it that way, hmm?” she replied, before Foxtail began to herd the cats back towards their dens.

Soon, Sparrowwing found herself alone in the night, silently pacing around the edge of the Camp, ears perked and mouth open to catch what scents she could. As the moon rose steadily higher, the night deepening, she found herself reminded anew of the lack of her brother’s presence at her side. _We would have been named together_ , she thought, and her ears pinned back briefly, before she firmly shook her head, refocusing and scolding herself. She _must_ put such thoughts aside, especially during her Vigil, when a moment of inattention could mean the life of a Clanmate.

 _“You worry too much, Sparrowwing,”_ A faint whisper told her, and the tabby queen spun around, gray eyes wide and fur standing on end, a growl in her throat, but she fell still as she saw what, _who_ , stood behind her.

Sunflare stood glowing in the darkness, his coat made of shining stars and paws made of wisps of shimmering fog, as if he would turn to smoke if he touched the ground. His whiskers were lifted in amusement as he stared at Sparrowwing, who could barely breath from the shock of seeing him.

“…Sunflare?” She asked softly, not wishing to either wake a Clanmate or dispel whatever had brought her brothers spirit to her. The StarClan tom chuckled softly, and stepped up to her side, looking down at her, as he begun to do a month or so before his death as he grew taller.

 _“The one and only,”_ he told her. _“Why am I here, you wonder, yes?”_ Silently, she nodded, turning as he began to walk, so that she would remain at his side. “ _Well, I couldn’t miss my own Vigil, now, could I?”_ With that, the StarClan Warrior fell silent, and something peaceful surrounded them as they walked together, as they would have had he lived. When the sun began to rise, and Sunflare began to fade, they touched noses in farewell.

 _“Mother sends her love and wants you to know how proud she is of you, of both of us,”_ his whispering voice murmured to her. _“I want you to know that, despite the pain that lies in the future; your path is firmly set. We believe in you, and love you…”_ He paused, and looked away; Sparrowwing followed his gaze, to find Rainstorm sitting silently upon his star-gazing boulder, his gold eyes locked on them with patient understanding. Sunflare turned back to her, his body beginning to fade away as the sun continued its steady rise.

 _“Don’t join us too soon, alright, big sister?”_ he told her, teasingly, before he turned and began to walk away, lifting into the air itself before, with a last twinkle of shimmering stars, he disappeared, returning to StarClan, where he now belonged. Sparrowwing closed her eyes briefly, before turning to face the MeadowClan Medicine Cat, making her way towards him and up onto his boulder. Silently, she sat beside him, and they watched the sun rise as her Clanmates began to stir.

“Be careful, Sparrowwing,” the black tom told her calmly, voice bland as his eyes remained looking up, seeing something she couldn’t. “The words of StarClan, no matter how soothing, can only be heard by those who have something great before them. This does not mean it is happiness, know that.” Finally, he looked at her, before touching his nose to her shoulder, and leaping from his perch. Ears perked, Sparrowwing stared after him as he slipped into the Nursery to check on the new litters, before she turned her eyes up to the sky, and wondered what her future held.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TIMELINE  
> Sparrowkit becomes Sparrowpaw = May  
> Sparrowpaw becomes Sparrowwing = February


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally all caught up to the same length as the one on FF.N!! ^-^ (I'm under the same User there, if you get curious!! ^-^)

**_ Chapter Twelve _ **

 

Sparrowwing was sitting as still as possible on a stray boulder near WoodClan territory, muscles tense as she ignored the scent of the grass around her, the sky covered with what promised to be yet another New-Leaf storm, as she observed the visitor MeadowClan Territory had. She had never seen a moose this close to Camp, before. It was truly massive, bigger than any creature she had seen, with dark brown fur and large, curving horns the color of the soft wheat grass. It observed her with dark eyes as it grazed, but it seemed more bored than interested. Cautiously, Sparrowwing climbed down from her perch, and moved back towards the Camp.

She had no desire to see what would get the moose interested.

Slipping through the grass that surrounded the main Camp, she paused and glanced around, taking in which cats were there and who was off patrolling or hunting.

Foxtail was speaking with her new Apprentice, young Whitepaw, who was still a quiet tom as he had been as a kit, his white fur thick and bright, his eyes a bright blue. Sparrowwing had been honestly surprised when WhisperStar had made his only surviving kit Foxtail’s Apprentice, but, then again, it was against the unspoken code for a parent to mentor their own kit, unless there was a severe lack of Warriors available, of course. Lostfoot and Thornclaw were curled up and sharing tongues, while blinded Stonefang was munching on a vole while Pebblepaw (who had flourished in her position as Medicine Cat Apprentice when she had returned from her required visit to the Star Pool, returning much more confident and relaxed then she was when she left) carefully pulled ticks from his fur with some help from Stormpaw, who was grimacing around the wad of mouse-bile soaked fur she held gingerly in her teeth.

WhisperStar was listening to Palestripe, who had no doubt just returned from his patrol border nearest to the Junk Yard, where a large number of Rogues seemed to be hiding out. There had been a number of skirmishes over the last moon, not only in MeadowClan territory, but in the others as well. CreekClan had seen less than the others, but they had also found a larger number of dead cats in their waters, so that most likely explained why.

Windclaw was lounging near the Medicine Cat Den as Rainstorm applied cobwebs to wounds he had gained from an eagle that had attempted to grab up one of his kits, only for the Warrior to put himself between the large bird and frightened Mosskit. The eagle’s talons had cut him badly, but had flown away without prey and missing several tail feathers. With the emergence of New-Leaf, more and more predators were appearing. There had been three separate badger sightings in the last moon, the scent of foxes was strong around the WoodClan Border, and now there was a moose in the territory, which meant the larger predators would be venturing closer as well, and Sparrowwing had no wish to see a wolf or bear so close.

Padding towards WhisperStar, she waited as he gave Palestripe orders to stay in the secondary Camp for a night or two, and patrol the CreekClan border while there, before he finally turned his bright yellow eyes on the tabby queen.

“There’s a moose grazing in our territory, near the corner of the WoodClan territory closest to the Star Pool,” she informed him simply; WhisperStar blinked, obviously not expecting it, before his whiskers lifted in amusement.

“Startling, aren’t they?” he asked her hoarsely; Sparrowwing bobbed her head in agreement, her own whiskers lifting, before he nodded her towards the Apprentice Den. “Take Flowerpaw out hunting, would you? She’s been bored and lazy since Windclaw was injured.” Sparrowwing nodded in agreement, and slipped away as the MeadowClan Leader turned to go speak with Foxtail about the reports he’d been given. Sparrowwing poked her head into her old den, feeling a twinge of nostalgia as she noticed her old nest was still in its place at the very back. Blinking away the feeling, she quickly focused on the dozing yellow queen lounging about.

“Flowerpaw,” she meowed clearly; the younger queen’s ears perked and she sat up quickly. “You’re coming hunting with me,” she told the Apprentice firmly; the yellow queen mewed her agreement, and Sparrowwing pulled back and waited for the Apprentice to appear, which she did, scrambling out of the Den and peering up at her hopefully.

“Let’s go,” Sparrowwing told her, and led the way out of Camp, ear twitching as she noted how loud the Apprentice’s movements were, unused as she was to the tall grass that rustled clearly with each movement. Silently, she made note of all she could, to report to Windclaw when they returned, knowing the older Warrior would appreciate it, even if he _did_ make the tabby wary, with his strange actions and evasive answers to any questioning whenever he was sighted where he wasn’t supposed to be. He now tended to get a little snappish with Sparrowwing, because she had begun keeping a closer watch on him.

“Where are we going to hunt?” Flowerpaw asked the distracted tabby, bringing her attention back into focus; Sparrowwing blinked away her thoughts on Windclaw, and paid better attention to her surroundings.

 _Distracted Warriors Are Dead Warriors_ , she reminded herself firmly, even as she answered the Apprentice’s question.

“There is a moose in the northern part of the territories, and too many rogues to the East, so we’ll be hunting between the Main Camp and Secondary Camp. There are more ravines, and Fire Ants there, but it is safer at the moment than elsewhere.” Flowerpaw nodded, and Sparrowwing made a point to begin slowing down, ear twitching as the Apprentice followed; her previously loud movements quieting.

Finally, they reached a fallen tree that marked the halfway point, half-rotten and filled with mold and bugs from all the rain and humidity.

“Scent around the log first thing,” Sparrowwing ordered the Apprentice softly, watching as the yellow queen slipped forward obediently. “This log is a good place for voles, shrew, mice, and small birds to hunt. Find their scents, even if they’re no longer here.” Slowly, Flowerpaw made her way around the log, sniffing delicately as she did so. Sparrowwing carefully followed along, staying downwind as she observed the Apprentice’s actions. When the young she-cat reached the hollow end of the log, she paused, ears flickering in confusion, as she scented that area more thoroughly.

“There’s a strange cat smell here, Sparrowwing,” she announced, uncertainly; Sparrowwing narrowed her eyes and moved closer, breathing in the scent herself.

It was the smell of an unknown she-cat, and what smelled like kits. Sparrowwing sniffed around the ground carefully, opening her mouth to better catch the trail, before she stood straight and peered in the direction it went.

“Flowerpaw, follow me, but stay downwind,” she ordered after a minute or two of consideration. In another situation, she would have sent the younger cat back to Camp for reinforcements, but the scent was fresh, only a few hours old, and she didn’t want to risk sending the Apprentice back alone when this unknown cat may be close by.

“On it,” Flowerpaw replied softly, slinking slowly into the grass, downwind of the scent. Carefully, Sparrowwing began to follow the trail, crouched low to the ground, mouth open and ears arched to catch whatever sounds she could. After a few minutes of careful stalking, she caught the sound of kits playing quietly, the soft purring of a queen watching them, and the scent of fresh milk, which meant that the kits had either just fed, or one was still feeding. Sparrowwing glanced in the direction Flowerpaw was to be, and nodded to herself, before she stood and stepped through the grasses to take in the scene before her.

A pretty queen with amber and black meshed fur was lying sleepily at the base of a small boulder on a nest of pine needles she had no doubt scrapped together. Two kits, looking about three moons old, were wrestling, two small toms, while a third kit, a queen, was suckling from her mothers teat. The unknown queen sat up sharply at Sparrowwing’s appearance, her pink collar shifting against her fur with a quiet scraping sound. The kits scrambled behind and under their mother as she growled warningly at the Warrior. Sparrowwing ignored her growling, and eyed the kits for a moment, taking them in.

The little queen was bright orange, with dashes of white here and there. The bigger tom was a gray tabby, with a white underbelly, paws, and tail-tip, while the smaller tom was a darker mirror of his mother, with white paws and tail-tip. The mother snarled and hissed at Sparrowwing and crouched, hiding her kits from view, and Sparrowwing turned her attention to the Kittypet, observing her sharp green eyes as she did so.

“You are trespassing in MeadowClan Territory,” she informed the Kittypet coolly; the cat growled at her.

“We’re not doing anything wrong,” she spat, shifting protectively. “My human just dumped us here. We’ve no where to go,” she muttered, hunching unhappily as she kept her narrowed eyes on Sparrowwing. The Warrior observed her silently for a moment, before sitting down.

“Are you alone?” she asked calmly; the cat’s ear twitched, before she hesitantly bobbed her head. Sparrowwing observed her for another moment, before nodding to herself. “Flowerpaw,” she called; with a soft rustle of grass, the yellow queen appeared at the tabby’s side, startling and frightening the Kittypet, who looked around nervously, mouth opening to scent the air even as she fluffed her fur out. “Return to Camp, and alert WhisperStar, before returning here.”

“Yes, Sparrowwing,” the Apprentice agreed softly, eying the Kittypet with wary curiosity, before following her orders, disappearing with another rustle of grass.

“Where is she going?!” The Kittypet snarled; eyes wide as they darted around and she crouched lower over her kits. Sparrowwing blinked at her, and remained sitting tall.

“She’s gone to get our Leader, who will decide whether you shall be welcomed into the Camp, for your own and your kits protection, or escorted out of territory so that you will no longer be our responsibility,” the Warrior informed her simply. “My name is Sparrowwing,” she offered after a few minutes of silence. The Kittypet stared at her warily, slowly sitting up from her crouch, and letting her kits move a little ways away.

“I’m Chloe,” she replied warily; Sparrowwing nodded her head, and watched the kits skulk about their mothers legs, watching the Warrior with huge, curious eyes. A hoarse yowl announced WhisperStar’s arrival, and Sparrowwing immediately yowled in reply, watching as Chloe dragged her kits once more under her, as the large white tom emerged from the grass, Foxtail, Flowerpaw, Whitepaw, and Nightfur following after him.

“Flowerpaw informed me of what has happened,” WhisperStar told Sparrowwing hoarsely, yellow eyes on Chloe, before he nodded, and flicked his tail at the tabby Warrior. “Return to your hunting, Sparrowwing.”

“Yes, WhisperStar,” the she-cat told him, before turning and catching Flowerpaw’s eyes, nodding her head before she left the group, the yellow Apprentice following behind, as they returned to the log, and Sparrowwing set the young queen to once more scenting.

Through the rest of the afternoon, Sparrowwing put the Kittypet’s fate from her mind as best as she was able, and taught Flowerpaw the best way to catch birds, and the difference in scent between a vole, shrew, and mouse, and the two of them returned to Camp with a decent catch, a squirrel draped over Sparrowwing’s back while she carried two small birds in her mouth. Flowerpaw was struggling, with pride, under the weight of her own catch, a vole _and_ a shrew, which she immediately took to Thornclaw and Lostfoot when they entered the Camp. Sparrowwing took note of the new scent in the Camp, and poked her head into the Nursery, purring in greeting as she took in the sight of Chloe and her kits nestled in beside Blacktail and Robinheart, the two Clan Queens purring their own greetings in return.

“Good hunting, Sparrowwing?” Blacktail asked as she stepped carefully over her playing kits to take one of the birds from the young Warrior, passing it behind her to Robinheart before accepting the other bird for herself.

“I took Flowerpaw out with me, on WhisperStar’s orders,” she told the calico queen easily, absently using a paw to nudge eager young Snailkit back towards Robinheart before the clever little tom could sneak out under their paws (as he had done before). “We are having much better luck, with New-Leaf. Green-Leaf will be even more plentiful.” She bobbed her head towards Chloe, who hesitantly nodded back, before Sparrowwing pulled herself out of the Den opening and moved to take her squirrel to the Fresh Kill Stone, dropping it there just as Grassrunner, Blossomheart, and Tigerpaw returned from their own hunting/patrol, carrying a rabbit, three birds, and what looked like a small mole with them. The mole was, no doubt, young Tigerpaw’s catch, as he was all but covered with dirt and looked proud to be so, carrying his prey with his head high.

“Have fun?” Sparrowwing asked the young tom with an amused lift to her whiskers, watching as his pawsteps faltered, before he nodded at her, carrying his catch to the Stone. “Well, don’t forget to get yourself cleaned up, will you?” She told him wit a small shake of her head, wondering if she had ever looked as silly as an Apprentice, before scolding herself with the reminder that it had barely been a _moon_ since she was an Apprentice, and she was already thinking like it had been seven.

Shaking her head again, she slipped out of the Camp to join Nightfur, Rabbitfoot, and Stormpaw on a Patrol of the No-Clan Territory Border.

They returned at Sundown, to find that Chloe and her kits had been given MeadowClan names, and that the Kittypet was now known as Pinetail. Her kits were Smokekit (the gray tabby tom), Gingerkit (the orange queen), and Volekit (the brown-black-meshed tom), and that they were all now MeadowClan cats, though WhisperStar was going to visit the Star Pool to discuss it with StarClan on the Dark Moon.

It was, all together, and interesting, yet satisfying, day.


End file.
